Round The Moon

ROUND THE MOON

WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

LONDON, MELBOURNE AND CAPE TOWN

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

During the course of the year 186—the entire world was
singtilarly excited by a scientific experiment without prece¬
dent in the long history of science. The members of the
Gun Club, a circle of artillerymen established at>Baltimore
after the American Civil War, had the idea of communica¬
ting with the moon—yes, with the moon—by sending a
missile to her. Their president, Barbicane, the promoter of
the enterprise, having consulted the astronomers of the
Cambridge Observatory on this subject, took all the pre¬
cautions necessary for the success of the extraordinary
enterprise, declared possible by the majority of competent
people.

According to the plan drawn up by the members of the
Observatory, the cannon destined to hurl the projectile
was to be set up in some country situated between the
o'* and 20® of north or south latitude in order to aim at the
moon at the zenith. The missile was to be given an initial
velocity of 12,000 yards a second. Hurled on the ist of
December at thirteen minutes and twenty seconds to eleven
in the evening, it was to get to the moon four days after its
departure on the 5th of December at midnight precisely, at
the very instant she would be at her perigee—that is to say,
nearest to the earth, or at exactly 86,410 leagues* distance.

The principal members of the Gun Club, the president,
Barbicane, Major Elphinstone, the secretary, J. T. Maston,
and others, held several meetings, in which the form and
composition of the missile were discussed, as well as the
disposition and nature of the cannon, and the quality and
quantity of the powder to be employed. It was decided—
1, that the projectile should be of aluminium, with a
diameter of 800 inches; its sides were to be 12 inches thick,
and it was to weigh 19,250 lbs.; 2, that the cannon should be

5

ROUND THE MOON

a cast-iron Columbiad 900 feet long, and should be cast at
once in the ground; 3, that the charge should consist
of 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton, which, by developing
6,000,000,000 litres of gas under the projeaile, would carry
it easily towards the Queen of Night.

These questions settled. President Barbicane, aided by
the engineer, Murchison, chose a site in Florida in 27® 7'
north lat. and 5® 7' west long. It was there that after marvels
of labour the Columbiad was successfully cast.

Things were at that stage when an incident occurred
which increased the interest attached to this great enterprise.

A Frenchman, a regular Parisian, an artist as witty as he
was audacious, volunteered to travel in the missile in order
to survey the moon. This intrepid adventurer’s name was
Michel Ardan. He arrived in America, was received with
enthusiasm, held meetings, was carried in triumph,
reconciled President Barbicane to his mortal enemy.
Captain NichoU, and in pledge of the reconciliation he
persuaded them to embark with him in the projectile.

llie proposition was accepted. The form of the missile
was changed. It became cylindro-conical. TTiey furnished
this new design of aerial compartment with powerful
springs and breakable partitions to break the departing
shock. It was filled with provisions for one year, water for
some months, and gas for some days. An automatic
apparatus made and gave out the air necessary’ for the
respiration of the three travellers. At the same time the Gun
Club had a gigantic telescope set up on one of the highest
summits of the Rocky iMountains, through which the
projectile could be followed during its journey through
space. Ever>'thing was then ready.

On the 1st of December, at the time fi.xed, amidst an
extraordinary’ concourse of spectators, the take-olf took
place, and for the first lime three human beings left the
terrestrial globe for unknown interplanetary’ regions.

These audacious travellers, .Michel Ardan, President

Barbicane, and Captain Nicholl were to accomplish their
6

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

journey in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutes and twenty
seconds; consequently they could not reach the lunar disc
until the 5th of December, at midnight, at the precise
moment that the moon would be full, and not on the 4ih, as
some wrongly-informed newspapers had given out.

But something unexpected occurred; the detonation
produced by the Columbiad had the immediate effect of
disturbing the earth’s atmosphere, where an enormous
quantity of vapour accumulated. This phenomenon excited
much indignation, for the moon was hidden during several
nights.

The worthy J. T. Maston, the greatest friend of the three
travellers, set out for the Rocky Mountains in the company
of the Honourable J. Belfast, director of the Cambridge
Observatory, and reached the station of Long’s Peak, where
the telescope was set up which brought the moon, apparently,
to within two leagues. The honourable secretary of the Gun
Qub wished to observe for himself the missile that con¬
tained his audacious friends.

The accumulation of clouds in the atmosphere prevented
all observation during the 5lh, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and loth
of December. It was even thought that no observation
could take place before the 3rd of January of the following
year, for the moon, entering her last quarter on the nth,
would after that not show enough of her surface to allow
the trace of the projectile to be followed.

But at last, to the general satisfaction, a strong tempest
during the night between the iith and 12th of December
cleared the atmosphere, and the half-moon was distinctly
visible on the dark background of the sky.

That same night a telegram was sent from Long’s Peak
Station by J. T. Maston and Belfast to the staff of the
Cambridge Observatory. It announced that on the nth of
December, at 8.47 p.m., the projectile hurled by the
Columbiad of Stony Hill had been observed by Messrs.
Belfast and J. T. Maston, that the missile had deviated from
its course through some unknown cause, and had not

7

ROUNt THE MOON

reached its goal, but had gone near enough to be retained
by the moon’s gravitational attraction; that its rectilinear
movement had been changed, and that it was describing
an elliptical orbit round the moon, and had become her
satellite.

The telegram added that its position had not yet been
calculated—in faa, three obsen-’ations, taking a star in three
different positions, are necessary to determine it. Then
it stated that the distance separating the projectile from the
lunar surface “might be” estimated at about 2,833 leagues,
or 4,500 miles.

It ended with the following alternative theories; Either
the attraction of the moon would end by carrying the day,
and the travellers would reach their goal; or the projectile,
fixed in an immutable orbit, would gravitate around the
lunar disc to the end of time.

In either of these alternatives what would be the travellers’
fate? It is true they had provisions enough for some time.
But even supposing that their bold enterprise were crowned
with success, how would they return? Could they ever
return? VC'ould news of them ever reach the earth? These
questions, debated upon by the most learned writers of the
time, intensely interested and excited the public.

A remark may here be made which ought to be meditated
upon by too impatient observers. When an “expert”
announces a purely speculative discovery to the public he
cannot aa with too much care. No one is obliged to discover
either a comet or a satellite, and those who make a mistake
in such a case expose themselves justly to public ridicule.
TTterefore it is better to wait; and that is what impatient
J. T. Atasion ought to have done before sending the
telegram which, according to him, contained the last
communication about this enterprise.

In fact, the telegram contained errors of two sorts,
verified later:—i. Errors of observation concerning the dis¬
tance of the projectile from the surface of the moon, for upon
the date of the i ith of December it was impossible to per-

HOW IT ALL ^EGAN

ceive it, and that which J. T. Maston had seen, or thought
he saw, could not be the missile from the Columbiad.
2. A theoretic error as to the fate of the said missile, for
making it a satellite of the moon was an absolute contra¬
diction of the laws of rational mechanics.

One hypothesis only made by the astronomers of Long’s
Peak might be realized, the one that foresaw the case when
the travellers—if any yet existed—should employ the moon’s
attraction to reach its surface.

Now these men, as intelligent as they were bold, had
survived the terrible shock of take-off, and their journey will
be related in its most dramatic as well as in its most scientific
details. This accoimt will put an end to many illusions, but
it will give a just idea of what happens during such an
enterprise, and will set in relief Barbicane’s scientific
instincts, NichoU’s industrial resources, and the humorous
audacity of Michel Ardan.

Besides, it will prove that their worthy friend J. T.
Maston was losing his time when, bending over the gigantic
telescope, he watched the course of the moon across the
planetary r^ons.

9

CHAPTER I

FROM 10.20 P.M. TO IO.47 P.M.

When ten o’clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and
Nicholl said good-bye to the numerous friends they were
soon to leave. The two dogs, destined to acclimatize this
species to conditions on the moon, were already in the
projectile. The three travellers approached the orifice of
the enormous iron tube, and a crane lowered them to the
conical covering of the missile.

There an opening let them down into the aluminium
vehicle. The crane’s tackle was drawn up outside, and the
mouth of the Columbiad instantly cleared of its last
scaffolding.

As soon as Nicholl and his companions were in the
projectile he closed the opening by means of a strong plate
screwed down from inside. Other closely-fitting plates
covered the lenticular glasses of the skylights. The travel¬
lers, hermetically enclosed in their metal prison, were in
profound darkness.

“And now, my dear companions,” said Michel Ardan,
“let us make ourselves at home. I am a domestic man
myself, and know how to make the best of any lodgings.
First let us have a light; gas was not invented for moles!”

Saying which the light-hearted fellow struck a match on
the sole of his boot and then applied it to the burner of
the receptacle, in which there w'as enough carbonized
hydrogen, stored under strong pressure, for lighting and
heating the compartment for 144 hours, or six days and
six nights.

Once the gas lighted, the projectile presented the aspect
of a comfortable room with padded walls, furnished with
circular divans, the roof of which was in the shape of a dome.

10

FROM 10.20 P.M. TO IO.47 P.M.

The objects in it, weapons, instruments, and tools, were
securely fastened to the sides in order to withstand the
parting shock. Every possible precaution had been taken
to ensure the success of so bold an experiment.

Alichel Ardan examined everything, and declared him¬
self quite satisfied with his quarters.

“It is a prison,” said he, “but a travelling prison, and
if I had the right to put my nose to the window I would
take it on a hundred years* lease! You are smiling, Barbi-
cane. You are t hink ing of something you do not com¬
municate. Do you say to yourself that this prison may be
our coffin? Our coffin let it be; I would not change it for
Mahomet’s, which only hangs in space, and does not move!”

Whilst Michel Ardan was talking thus, Barbicane and
NichoU were making their final preparations.

It was 10.20 p.m. by Nicholl’s chronometer wh^ xhe
three travellers were definitely sealed up in their projectile.
This chronometer was r^ulated to the tenth of a second by
that of the engineer, Murchison. Barbicane looked at it.

“My friends,” said he, “it is twenty minutes past ten;
at thirteen minutes to eleven Murchison will fire the
Columbiad; at that minute precisely we shall leave our
planet. We have, therefore, still twenty-seven minutes to
remain upon earth.”

“Twenty-six minutes and thirteen seconds,” answered
the methodical NichoU.

“Very weU!” cried Michel Ardan good-humouredly; “in
twenty-six minutes lots of things can be done. We can
discuss grave moral or poUtical questions, and even solve
them. Twenty-six minutes weU employed are worth more
t han twenty-six years of doing nothing. A few seconds of a
Pascal or a Newton are more precious than the whole
existence of a crowd of imbeciles.”

“And what do you conclude from that, talker eternal?”

asked President Barbicane.

“I conclude that we have twenty-six minutes,” answered
Ardan.

II

ROUND THE MOON

“Twenty-four only,” said NichoU.

“Twenty-four, then, if you like, brave captain,” answered
Ardan; “twenty-four minutes, during which we might
investigate-”

“Michel,” said Barbicane, “during our journey we shall
have plenty of time to investigate the deepest questions.
Now we must think of starting.”

“Are we not ready?”

“Certainly. But there are still some precautions to be
taken to deaden the first shock as much as possible!”

“Have we not water-cushions placed between movable
partitions elastic enough to protect us sufficiently?”

“I hope so, Michel,” answered Barbicane gently; “but
1 am not quite sure!”

“Ah, the joker!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. “He hopes!
He is not quite sure! And he waits till we are encased to make
this deplorable acknowledgment I I ask to get out.”

“By what means?” asked Barbicane.

“Well!” said Michel Ardan, “it would be difficult. We are
in the train, and the guard’s whistle will be heard in
twenty-four minutes.”

“Twenty!” ejaculated NichoU.

The three iraveUers looked at one another for a few
seconds. Then they examined all the objects imprisoned with
them.

“Uveiyihing is in its place,” said Barbicane. “The
question now is where we can place ourselves so as best to
support the departing shock. Tlte position we assume must
be important too—we must prevent the blood rushing too
violently to our heads.”

“ITiat is true,” said NichoU.

“Then,” answered Michel Ardan, always ready to suit
the action to the word, “we wiU stand on our heads like
the clowns at the circus.”

“No,” said Barbicane; “but let us lie on our sides; we
shall thus resist the shock better. ^XTlen the projectile starts
it Hill not much matter whether we are inside or in front.”

12

FROM 10.20 P.M. TO IO.47 P.M.

“If it comes to ‘not much maner’ I am more reassured,**
answered Michel Ardan.

“Do you approve of my idea, NichoU?** asked Barbicane.

“Entirely,** answered the captain. “Still thineen minutes
and a-half.**

“NichoU is not a man,** exclaimed Michel; “he is a
chronometer marking the seconds, and with eight holes
in-**

But his companions were no longer listening to him, but
were making their last preparations with aU the coolness
imaginable. They look^ like two methodical traveUers
taking their places in the train and making themselves as
comfortable as possible. One wonders, indeed, of what
materials these American hearts are made, to which the
approach of the most frightful danger does not add a single
pulsation.

Three beds, thick and soUdly made, had been placed in
the projectUe. NichoU and Barbicane placed them in the
centre of the disc that formed the movable flooring. There
the three traveUers were to Ue down a few minutes before
their departure.

In the meantime Ardan, who could not remain quiet,
turned round his narrow prison like a wUd animal in a cage,
talking to his friends and his dogs, Diana and Satellite, to
whom it wiU be noticed he had some time before given these
significant names.

“Up, Diana! up. Satellite!** he cried, exciting them. “You
are going to show to the Selenite dogs how weU-behaved the
dogs of the earth can be! That wiU do honour to the canine
race. If we ever come back here I wiU bring back a cross¬
breed of‘moon-dogs* that will become all the rage.**

“If there are any dogs in the moon,** said Barbicane.

“There are some,** affirmed Michel Ardan, “the same
as there are horses, cows, asses, and hens. I wager anything
we shaU find some hens.**

“I bet a hundred dollars we find none,** said NichoU.

“Done, captain,** answered Ardan, shaking hands with

13

ROUND THE MOON

Nicholl. “But, by the by, you have lost three bets with the
president, for the funds necessary for the enterprise were
provided, the casting succeeded, and lastly, the Columbiad
was loaded without accident—that makes six thousand
dollars.’*

“Yes,” answered Nicholl. “Twenty-three minutes and
six seconds to eleven.”

“I hear, captain. Well, before another quarter of an hour
is over you will have to make over another nine thousand
dollars to the president, four thousand because the Colum¬
biad will not burst, and five thousand because the projectile
will rise higher than six miles into the air.”

“I have the dollars,” answered Nicholl, striking his coat
pocket, “and I only want to pay.”

“Come, Nicholl, I see you are a man of order, what I
never could be; but allow me to tell you that your series of
bets cannot be ver>' advantageous to you.”

“Why?” asked Barbicane.

“Because if you win the first the Columbiad will have
burst, and the projectile with it, and Barbicane will not be
there to pay you your dollars.”

“My wager is deposited in the Baltimore Bank,” an¬
swered Barbicane simply; “and in default of Nicholl it will
go to his heirs.”

“What practical men you are!” cried Michel Ardan. “I
admire you as much as I do not understand you.”

“Eighteen minutes to eleven,” said Nicholl.

“Only five minutes more,” answered Barbicane.

“Yes, five short minutes!” replied Michel Ardan. “And
we are shut up at the bottom of a cannon 900 feet long!
where there are 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton, worth more than
1,600,000 lbs. of ordinary powder! And friend Murchison,
with his chronometer in hand and his eye fixed on the hand
and his finger on the electric knob, is counting the seconds
to hurl us into the planetary regions.”

“Enough, Michel, enough!” said Barbicane in a grave
tone. “Let us prepare ourselves. A few seconds only

M

FROM 10.20 P.M. TO IO.47 P.M.

separate us from a supreme moment. Your hands, my
friends.’*

“Yes,” cried Michel Ardan, more moved than he wished
to appear.

TTie three bold companions shook hands.

“God help us!” said the religious president.

Michel Ardan and NichoU lay down on their beds in
the centre of the floor.

“Thirteen minutes to eleven,” murmured the captain.

Twenty seconds more! Barbicane rapidly put out the gas,
and lay down beside his companions.

The profound silence was only broken by the chrono¬
meter beating out the seconds.

Suddenly a frightful shock was felt, and the projectile,
under the impulsion of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas developed
by the deflagration of the pyroxyle, rose into space.

15

CHAPTER II

THE FIRST HALF-HOUR

What had happened? WTiat was the effect of the frightful
shock? Had the ingenuity of the constructors of the
projectile been attended by a happy result? Was the effect
of the shock deadened, thanks to the springs, the four
buffers, the water-cushions, and the movable partitions?
Had they triumphed over the frightful impulsion of the
initial velocity of ii,ooo metres a second? TTtis was
evidently the question the thousands of witnesses of the ex¬
citing scene asked themselves. They forgot the object of
the journey, and only thought of the travellers! Suppose
one of them—J. T. Maston, for instance—had been able to
get a glimpse of the interior of the projectile, what would he
have seen?

Nothing then. Tlie obscurity was profound in the com¬
partment. Its cylindro-conical sides had resisted perfectly.
'Fhere was not a break, a crack, or a dent in them. The
admirable projectile was not hurt by the intense deflagration
of the powders, instead of being liquefied, as it was feared,
into a mass of aluminium.

In the interior there was verv’ linle disorder on the whole.
A few objects had been violently hurled up to the roof, but
the most important did not seem to have suffered from the
shock. Tlieir fastenings w’ere intact.

On the movable disc, crushed down to the bottom by the
smashing of the partitions and the escape of the water, three
bodies lay motionless. Did Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel
Ardan still breathe? Was the projectile nothing but a metal
coffin carrying three corpses into space?

A few minutes after departure one of the bodies moved,
stretched out its arms, lifted up its head, and succeeded in

i6

THE FIRST HALF-HOUR

getting upon its knees. It was Michel Ardan. He felt himself,
uttered a sonorous “Hum,” then said—

“Michel Ardan, complete. Now for the others!”

The courageous Frenchman wanted to get up, but he
could not stand. His head vacillated; his blood, violently
sent up to his head, blinded him. He felt like a drunken man.

“Brrr!” said he. “I feel as though I had been drinking
two bottles of Corton, only that was not so agreeable to
swallow I”

TTien passing his hand across his forehead several times,
and rubbing his temples, he called out in a firm voice—

“NichoU! Barbicane!”

He waited anxiously. No answer. Not even a sigh to
indicate that the hearts of his companions still beat. He
reiterated his call. Same silence.

“The devil!” said he. “They seem as though they had
fallen from the fifth storey upon their heads! Bah!” he
added with the imperturbable confidence that nothing could
shake, “If a Frenchman can get upon his knees, two
Americans will have no difficulty in getting upon their feet.
But, first of all, let us have a light on the subjea.”

Ardan felt life come back to him in streams. His blood
became calm, and resumed its ordinary circulation. Fresh
effons restored his equilibrium. He succeeded in getting up,
took a match out of his pocket, and struck it; then putting it
to the burner he lighted the gas. The meter was not in the
least damaged. The gas had not escaped. Besides, the smell
would have betrayed it, and had this been the case, Michel
Ardan could not with impunity have lighted a match. The
gas, mixed in the air, would have produced a detonating
mixture, and an explosion would have finished what a
shock had perhaps begun.

As soon as the gas was lighted Ardan bent down over his
two companions. Their bodies were thrown one upon the
other, NichoU on the top, Barbicane underneath.

Ardan raised the captain, propped him up against a
divan, and rubbed him vigorously. This friction, adminis-

R.M.—B 17

ROUND THE MOON

tered skilfully, reanimated NichoU, who opened his eyes,
instantly recovered his presence of mind, seized Ardan*s
hand, and then looking round him-

“And Barbicane?*’ he asked.

“Each in turn,** answered Michel Ardan tranquilly. “I
began with you, Nicholl, because you were on the top. Now
I’ll go to Barbicane.”

That said, Ardan and Nicholl raised the president of the
Gun Club and put him on a divan. Barbicane seemed to
have suffered more than his companions. He was bleeding,
but Nicholl was glad to find that the hicmorrhage only came
from a slight wound in his shoulder. It was a simple scratch,
which he carefully closed.

Nevertheless, Barbicane was some time before he came
to himself, which frightened his two friends,

“He is breathing, however,’* said NichoU, putting his
ear to the breast of the wounded man.

“Yes,” answered Ardan, “he is breathing like a man who
is in the habit of doing it daUy. Rub, NichoU, rub with aU
your might.**

And the two improvised practitioners set to work with
such a will and managed so weU that Barbicane at last came
to his senses. He opened his eyes, sat up, took the hands of
his two friends, and his first words were-

“Nicholl, are we going on?”

Nicholl and Ardan looked at one another. They had not
yet thought about the projectile. Their first anxiety had been
for the travellers, not for the vehicle.

“WeU, really, are we going on?’* repeated Michel Ardan.

“Or are we tranquilly resting on the soil of Florida?”
asked Nicholl.

“Or at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico?’* added Michel
Ardan.

“Impossible!” cried President Barbicane.

'Fhesc two suggestions, made by his two friends im¬
mediately recalled him to life and energy.

They could not yet decide the question. Tlie apparent

i8

THE FIRST HALF-HOUR

immovability of the craft and the want of communication
with the exterior prevented them finding it out. Perhaps
the projectile was falling through space. Perhaps after rising
a short distance it had fallen upon the earth, or even into the
Gulf of Mexico, a fall which the narrowness of the Floridian
peninsula made possible.

The case was serious, the problem interesting. It was
necessary to solve it as soon as possible. Barbicane, excited,
and by his moral energy triumphing over his physical
weakness, stood up and listened. A profound silence reigned
outside. But the thick padding was sufficient to shut out all
the noises on earth. However, one thing struck Barbicane.
The temperature in the interior of the projectile was
singularly high. The president drew out a thermometer
from the envelope. The instrument showed 8i® Fahr.

“Yes!** he then exclaimed—“yes, we are moving! This
stifling heat oozes through the sides of our projectile. It is
produced by friction against the atmosphere. It will soon
diminish; because we are already moving in space, and after
being almost suffocated we shall endure intense cold.’’

“What 1 ” asked Michel Ardan, “do you mean to say that
we are already beyond the terrestrial atmosphere?’’

“Without the slightest doubt, Michel. Listen to me. It
now wants but five minutes to eleven. It is already eight
minutes since we started. Now, if our initial velocity has not
been dimished by friction, six seconds would be enough for
us to pass the sixteen leagues of atmosphere which surround
earth.”

“Just so,” answered Nicholl; “but in what proportion do
you reckon the decrease of speed by friction?”

“In the proportion of one-third,” answered Barbicane.
“This decrease is considerable, but it is so much according
to my calculations. If, therefore, we have had an initial
velocity of i i,ooo metres, when we get past the atmosphere
it will be reduced to 7,332 metres. However that may be, we
have already cleared that space, and-”

“And then,” said Michel Ardan, “friend Nicholl has lost

19

ROUND THK MOON

his two bets—four thousand dollars because the Columbiad
has not burst, five thousand dollars because the projectile
has risen to a greater height than six miles; therefore,
NichoU, shell out.”

“We must prove it first,” answered the captain, “and pay
afterwards. It is quite possible that Barbicane’s calculations
are exact, and that I have lost my nine thousand dollars. But
another idea has come into my mind, and it may cancel the
wager.”

“VCTiat is it?” asked Barbicane quickly.

“The idea that for some reason or other the powder did
not fire, and we have not started.”

“Good heavens! captain,” cried Alichel Ardan, “that is a
supposition worthy of me! It is not serious! Have we not
been half stunned by the shock? Did I not bring you back
to life? Does not the president’s shoulder still bleed from
the blow?”

“Agreed, Michel,” replied NichoU, “but aUow me to ask
one question.”

“Ask it, captain.”

“Did you he,tr the detonation, which must certainly have
been formidable?”

“No,” answered Ardan, much surprised, “I certainly did
not hear it.”

“And you, Barbicane?”

“I did not either.”

“\X'hai do you make of that?” asked NichoU.

“X'i’hat indeed!” murmured the president; “why did we
not hear the detonation?”

The three friends looked at one another rather discon-
certediy. Here was an ine.xplicable phenomenon. Tlte
projectile had been fired, however, and there must have
been a detonation.

“We must know first where we are,” said Barbicane, “so
let us open the panel.”

Tliis operation was immediately accomplished. The
screws that fastened the bolts on the outer plates of the

30

THB FIRST HALF-HOUR

right-hand skylight yielded to the coach-wrench. TTiese
bolts were driven outside, and obturators wadded with
rubber corked up the hole that let them through. The
exterior plate immediately fell back upon its hinges like a
port-hole, and the lenticular glass that covered the hole
appeared. An identical light-port had been made in the
other side of the projectile, another in the dome, and a
fourth in the bottom. The firmament could therefore be
observed in four opposite directions—the firmament
through the lateral windows, and the earth or the moon
more directly through the upper or lower opening of the
projectile.

Barbicane and his companions immediately rushed to the
uncovered port-hole. No ray of light illuminated it. Pro¬
found darkness surrounded the projectile. This darkness did
not prevent Barbicane exclaiming—

“No, my friends, we have not fallen on the earth again!
No, we are not immersed at the bottom of the Gulf of
Mexico! Yes, we are going up through space! Look at those
stars that are s hinin g in the darkness, and the impenetrable
darkness that lies between the earth and us!“

“Hurrah I hurrah !’* cried Michel Ardan and Nicholl with
one voice.

In fact, the thick darkness proved that the projectile had
left the earth, for the ground, then brilliantly lighted by the
moon, would have appeared before the eyes of the travellers
if they had been resting upon it. This darkness proved also
that die projectile had passed beyond the atmosphere, for
the diifused light in the air would have been reflected on the
metallic sides of the projectile, which reflection was also
wanting. This light would have shone upon the glass of the
light-port, and that glass was in darkness. Doubt was no
longer possible. The travellers had quitted the earth.

“I have lost,” said Nicholl.

“I congratulate you upon it,” answered Ardan.

“Here are nine thousand dollars,” said the captain, taking
a bundle of notes out of his pocket.

21

ROUND THE MOON

“W’ill yoa have a receipt?’* asked Barbicane as he took the

money.

“If you do not mind,” answered Nicholl; “it is more
regular.’'

And as seriously and plilegmatically as if he had been in
his counting-house. President Barbicane drew out his
memorandum-book and tore out a clear page, wrote a receipt
in pencil, dated it, signed it, and gave it to the captain, who
put it carefully into his pocket-book,

.Michel Ardan totik off his hat and bowed to his two
companions without speaking a word. Such formality' under
such circumstances took away his power of speech. He had
never seen tinyihing so American.

Once their business over, Barbicane and Nicholl went
back to the light-port and looked at the constellations. The
stars stood out clearly upon the dark background of the sky.
But from this side the moon could not be seen, as she moves
from Ciist to west, rising gradually to the zenith. Her absence
made Ardan say—

“.*\nd the moon? Is she going to fail us?”

“Do not frighten yourself,” answered Barbicane. “She
is at her post, but we cannot see her from this side. We must
open the opposite light-port.”

At the very moment when Barbicane was going to
abandon one window to set clear the opposite one, his
attention was attracted by the approach of a shining object.
It was an enormous disc the colossal dimensions of which
could not be estimated. Its face turned towards the earth
was brilliantly lighted. It looked like a small moon reflecting
the light of the large one. It advanced at prodigious speed,
and seemed to describe round the earth an orbit right across
the passage of the projectile. To the movement of transla¬
tion of this object was added a movement of rotation upon
itself. It was therefore behaving like all celestial bodies in

spiice.

“Hhi ' cried .Michel .‘Vrdan. *‘\X'hatever is that? Another
projectile?”

It was an enormous disc of colossal dimensions

23

ROUND THE MOON

Barbicane did not answer. The sight of this enormous
body surprised him and made him uneasy. A collision was
possible which would have had deplorable results, either by
making the projectile deviate from its route and fall back
upon the earth, or be caught up by the attractive power of
the asteroid.

President Barbicane had rapidly seized the consequences
of this, which in one way or other would fatally prevent the
success of their attempt. His companions were silently
watching the object, which grew prodigiously larger as it
approached, and through a cenain optical illusion it seemed
as if the projectile were rushing upon it.

“Ye gods!” cried Michel Ardan; “there will be a collision
on the line!”

The three travellers instinctively drew back. Their terror
was extreme, but it did not last long, hardly a few seconds.
The asteroid passed at a distance of a few hundred yards
from the projectile and disappeared, not so much on
account of the rapidity of its course, but because its side
opposite to the moon was suddenly confounded with the
absolute darkness of space.

“A good journey to you!” cried Michel Ardan, uttering a
sigh of satisfaction. “Is not infinitude large enough to allow
a poor little projectile to go about without fear? What was
that pretentious globe which nearly knocked against us?”

“I know!” answered Barbicane.

“Of course! you know ever^Thing.”

“It is a simple asteroid,” said Barbicane; “but so large
that the attraction of the earth has kept it in the state of a
satellite.”

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. “Then the
earth has two moons like Neptune?”

“Yes, my friend, two moons, though she is generally
supposed to have but one. But this second moon is so small
and her speed so great that the inhabitants of the earth can¬
not perceive her. It was by taking into account certain per¬
turbations that a French astronomer, xM. Petit, was able to

24

THE FIRST HALF-HOUR

determine the existence of this second satellite and calculate
its orbit. According to his observations, this asteroid ac¬
complishes its revolution round the earth in three hours and
twenty minutes only. That implies prodigious speed.**

“Do all astonomers admit the existence of this satellite?’*
asked NichoU.

“No,** answered Barbicane; “but if they had met it like
we have they could not doubt any longer. By the by, this
asteroid, which would have much embarrassed us had it
knocked against us, allows us to determine our position in
space.**

“How?** said Ardan.

“Because its distance is known, and where we met it we
were exactly at 8,140 kilometres from the surface of the
terrestrial globe.**

“More than 2,000 leagues!** cried Michel Ardan. “That
beats the express trains of the pitiable globe called the
earth!**

“I should think it did,** answered NichoU, consulting his
chronometer; “it is eleven o*clock, only thirteen minutes
since we left the American continent.**

“Only thirteen minutes?** said Barbicane.

“That is aU,’* answered NichoU; “and if our initial
velocity were constant we should make nearly 10,000
leagues an hour.**

“That is aU very weU, my friends,** said the president;
“but one question stiU remains—why did we not hear the
detonation of the Columbiad?**

For want of an answer the conversation stopped, and
Barbicane, stiU reflecting, occupied himself with lowering
the covering of the second lateral Ught-port. His operation
succeeded, and through the glass the moon flUed the interior
of the projectUe with brilliant Ught. NichoU, like an econo¬
mical man, put out the gas that was thus rendered useless,
and the brilliance of which obstructed the observation of
planeury space.

The lunar disc then shone with incomp>arable purity.

25

ROUND THE MOON

Her rays, no longer filtered by the vapoury atmosphere of
earth, shone clearly through the glass and saturated the
interior air of the projectile with silvery reflections. The
black curtain of the firmament really doubled the brilliancy
of the moon, which in this void of ether unfavourable to
diffusion did not eclipse the neighbouring stars. The sky,
thus seen, presented quite a different aspect—one that no
human eye could imagine.

It will be readilv understood with what interest these
audacious men contemplated the moon, the supreme goal
of their journey. The earth’s satellite, in her movement of
translation, insensibly neared the zenith, a mathematical
point which she was to reach about ninen'-six hours later.
Her mountains and plains, or any object in relief, were not
seen more plainly than from the earth; but her light across
the void was developed with incomparable intensity. The disc
shone like a platinum mirror. The travellers had already for¬
gotten all about the earth which was flying beneath their feet.

It was Captain NichoU who first drew attention to the
vanished globe,

“Yes!” answered Michel Arden. “We must not be
ungrateful to it. As we are leaving our planet let our last
looks reach it. I want to see the earth before it disappears
completely from our eyes!”

Barbicane, to satisfy the desires of his companion,
occupied himself with clearing the window at the bottom
of the projectile, the one through which they could observe
the earth directly. The movable floor which the force of
projection had sent to the bottom was taken to pieces, not
without difficulty; its pieces, carefully placed against the
sides, might still be of use. Then appeared a circular bay
window, half a yard wide, cut in the lower part of the
projectile. It was filled with glass five inches thick,
strengthened with metal settings. Under it was an alumin¬
ium plate, held down by bolts. Tlie screws taken out and
the bolts withdrawn, the plate fell back, and visual com¬
munication was established between interior and e.xterior.

26

THE FIRST HALF-HOUR

Michel Ardan knelt upon the glass. It was dark, and
seemed opaque.

“Well,” cried he, “but where’s the earth?”

“There it is,” said Barbicane.

“What!” cried Ardan, “that thin streak, that silvery
crescent?”

“Certainly, Michel. In four days’ time, when the moon is
full, at the very minute we shall reach her, the earth will be
new. She will only appear to us under the form of a slender
crescent, which will soon disappear, and then she will be
buried for some days in impenetrable darkness.”

**That the earth!” repeated Michel Ardan, staring at the
thin slice of his native planar

The explanation given by President Barbicane was correct.
The earth, looked at from the projectile, was entering her
last quarter. She was in her octant, and her crescent was
clearly outlined on the dark background of the sky. Her
light, made bluish by the thickness of her atmosphere, was
less intense than that of the lunar crescent. This crescent
then showed itself under considerable dimensions. It
looked like an enormous arch stretched across the firma¬
ment. Some points, more vividly lighted, especially in its
concave part, announced the presence of high mountainsj
but they disappeared sometimes under black spots, which are
never seen on the surface of the lunar disc. They were rings
of douds placed concentrically round the terrestrial spheroid.

However, by dint of a natural phenomenon, identical with
that produced on the moon when she is in her octants, the
contour of the terrestrial globe could be traced. Its entire
disc appeared slightly visible through an effect of pale light,
ess appreciable than that of the moon. The reason of this
Ittsened intensity is easy to understand. When this reflec¬
tion IS produced on the moon it is caused by the sun’s rays
which the earth reflects upon her sateUite. Here it was
cau^ by the sun’s rays reflected from the moon upon the
^rth Now terrestrial Ught is thirteen times more intense
than lunar light on account of the difference of volume in

27

ROUND THE MOON

the two bodies. Hence it follows that in the phenomenon
of the pale light the dark part of the earth’s disc is less
clearly outlined than that of the moon’s disc, because the
intensity of the phenomenon is in proportion to the lighting
power of the two stars, it must be added that the terrestrial
crescent seems to form a more elongated curve than that of
the disc—a pure effect of irradiation.

W'hilst the travellers were ir>'ing to pierce the profound
darkness of space, a brilliant shower of falling stars shone
before their eyes. Hundreds of meteors, inflamed by contact
with the atmosphere, streaked the darkness with luminous
trails, and lined the cloudy part of the disc with their fire.

This was all tliey saw of the globe lost in the darkness, an
inferior star of the solar world, which for the grand planets
rises or sets as a simple morning or evening star! Imper¬
ceptible point in space, it was now only a fugitive crescent,
this globe where they had left all their affections.

For a long time the three friends, not speaking, yet
united in heart, watched while the projectile went on with
uniformly decreasing velocity. Then irresistible sleep took
possession of them. \X’as it fatigue of body and mind?
Doubtless, for after the excitement of the last hours passed
upon the earth, reaction must inevitably set in.

“VX’ell,” said Michel, “as we must sleep, let us go to
sleep.”

Stretched upon their beds, all three were soon buried in
profound slumber.

But thev had not been unconscious for more than a
quarter of an hour when Barbicanc suddenly rose, and,
waking his companions, in a loud voice cried—

“I’ve found it!”

“What have you found?” asked Michel Ardan, jumping
out of bed.

“'Die reason we did not hear the detonation of the
O^lumbiad!”

“'X’ell?” said NichoU.

“It was because our projectile went quicker than sound.”

28

CHAPTER III

TAKING POSSESSION

This explanation once given, the three friends fell again into
a profound sleep. Where would they have found a calmer
or more peaceful place to sleep in? Upon earth, houses in
the town or cottages in the country feel every shock upon
the surface of the globe. At sea, ships, rocked by the waves,
are in perpetual movement. This projectile alone, travelling
in absolute void amidst absolute silence, offered absolute
repose to its inhabitants.

The sleep of the three adventurers would have, perhaps,
been indefinitely prolonged if an unexpected noise had not
awakened them about 7 a.m. on the 2nd of December,
eight hours after their departure.

This noise was a very distinct bark.

“The dogs! It is the dogs!” cried Michel Ardan, getting
up immediately.

“They are hungry,” said NichoU.

“I should think so,” answered Michel; “we have for¬
gotten them.”

“Where are they?” asked Barbicane.

One of the animals was found cowering under the divan.
Terrified and stunned by the first shock, it had remained in
a comer until the moment it had recovered its voice along
with the feeling of hunger.

It was Diana, still rather sheepish, that came from the
retreat, not without urging. Michel Ardan encouraged her
with his most gracious words.

“Come, Diana,” he said—“come, my child; your destiny
will be noted in cynegetic annals 1 Pagans would have made
you companion to the god Anubis, and Christians friend
to St. Roch! You are worthy of being carved in bronze for

29

ROUND THE MOON

the king of hell, like the puppy that Jupiter gave beautiful
Europa as the price of a kiss! Your celebrity will efface that
of the Montargis and St. Bernard heroes. You are rushing
through interplanetary space, and will, perhaps, be the Eve
of Selenite dogs! You will justify up there Toussenel’s
saying, ‘In the beginning God created man, and seeing how
weak he was, gave him the dog!’ Come, Diana, come here!”

Diana, whether flattered or not, came out slowly, uttering
plaintive moans.

“Good!” said Barbicane. “I see Eve, but where is Adam?”

“Adam,” answered Michel Ardan, “can’t be far off. He
is here somewhere. He must be called! Satellite! here,
SateUite!”

But Satellite did not appear. Diana continued moaning.
It was decided, however, that she was not hurt, and an
appetizing dish w’as set before her to stop her complaining.

As to Satellite, he seemed lost. TTtey were obliged to
search a long time before discovering him in one of the
upper compartments of the projectile, where a rather inex¬
plicable rebound had hurled him violently. The poor
animal was in a pitiable condition.

The unfortunate dog was carefully lowered. His head had
been fractured against the roof, and it seemed difficult for
him to surv'ive such a shock. Nevertheless, he was com¬
fortably stretched on a cushion, where he sighed once.

“We uill take aire of you,” said Michel; “we are respon¬
sible for your existence. I would rather lose an arm than a
paw of my poor Satellite.”

So saying he offered some water to the wounded animal,
who drank it greedily.

After attending the dogs the travellers attentively watched
the earth and the moon. The earth only appeared like a pale
disc terminated by a crescent smaller than that of the
previous evening, but its volume compared with that of the
moon, which was gradually forming a perfect circle, re¬
mained enormous.

then said Michel Ardan; “I am r^Uy sorry

30

TAKING POSSESSION

we did not start when the earth was at her full—that is to
say, when our globe was in opposition to the sun!**

“Why?** asked NichoU.

“Because we should have seen our continents and seas
under a new aspect—the continents shining under the sun’s
rays, the seas darker, like they figure upon certain maps
of the world! I should like to have seen those poles of the
earth upon which the eye of man has never yet rested!”

“I dare say,” answered Barbicane, “but if the earth had
been full the moon would have been new—that is to say,
invisible amidst the irradiation of the sun. It is bener for us
to see the goal we want to reach than the place we started
from.”

“You are right, Barbicane,” answered Captain NichoU;
“and besides, when we have reached the moon we shaU
have plenty of time during the long lunar nights to consider
at leisure the globe that harbours men like us.”

“Men like us!” cried Michel Ardan. “But now they are
not more like us than the Selenites. We are inhabitants of a
new world peopled by us alone—the projectile! I am a man
like Barbicane, and Barbicane is a man like NichoU. Beyond
us and outside of us humanity ends, and we are the only
population of this microcosm until the moment we become
simple Selenites.”

“In about eighty-eight hours,” repUed the captain.

‘‘Which means?” asked Michel Ar dan .

*‘That it is half-past eight,” answered NichoU.

“Very wcU,” answered Michel, “I faU to find the shadow
of a reason why we should not breakfast.”

In fact, the inhabitants of the new star could not Uve in it
without eating. Michel Ardan, in his quality of Frenchman,
declared himself chief cook, an important function that no
one disputed with him.

The breakfast began with three cups of exceUent broth,
due to the Uquefaction in hot water of three precious Liebig
tablets, prepared from the choicest morsels of the Pampas
ruminants. Some slices of beefsteak succeeded them, and

31

ROUND THE MOON

were as tender and succulent as if they had just come from
the butchers of the Paris Cafd Anglais, Michel, an imagina¬
tive man, would have it they were even rosy.

Preserv ed vegetables, “fresher than the natural ones,” as
the amiable Michel observed, succeeded the meat, and
were followed by some cups of tea and slices of bread and
butter, American fashion. Lastly, as a worthy ending to the
meal, Ardan ferreted out a fine bottle of “Nuits” burgundy
that “happened” to be in the provision compartment. The
three friends drank it to the union of the earth and her
satellite.

And as if the generous wine it had distilled upon the
hill-sides of Burgundy were not enough, the sun was deter¬
mined to help in the feast. The projectile at that moment
emerged from the cone of shadow cast by the terrestrial
globe, and the sun’s rays fell directly upon the lower disc,
on account of the angle which the orbit of the moon makes
with that of the earth.

“The sun!” exclaimed Michel Ardan.

“Of course,” answ'ered Barbicane; “I expected it,”

“But,” said Michel, “the cone of shadow thrown by the
earth into space extends beyond the moon.”

“Much beyond if you do not take the atmospheric refrac¬
tion into account,” said Barbicane. “But when the moon is
enveloped in that shadow the centres of the three heavenly
bodies—the sun, the earth, and the moon—are in a straight
line. Then the nodes coincide with the full moon and there
is an eclipse. If, therefore, we had started during an eclipse
of the moon all our journey would have been accomplished
in the dark, which would have been a pity.”

“^"hy?”

“Because, although we are journeying in the void, our
projectile, bathed in the solar rays, will gather their light
and heat; therefore there will be economy of gas, a precious
economy in every way.”

In fact, under these rays, the temperature and brilliancy
of which there was no atmosphere to soften, the projectile

32

TAKING POSSESSION

was lighted and warmed as if it had suddenly passed from
winter to summer.

“It is pleasant here now,” said NichoU.

“I believe you!” cried Michel Ardan. “With a little
vegetable soil spread over our aluminium planet we could
grow green peas in twenty-four hours. I have only one fear,
that is that the walls of our craft will melt.”

“You need not alarm yourself, my worthy friend,”
a^wered Barbicane. “Xhe projectile supported a much
higher temperature while it was travelling through the
atmosphere. I should not even wonder if it looked to the
eyes of the spectators like a fiery meteor.”

“Then J. T. Masion must think we are roasted!”

What I am astonished at,” answered Barbicane, “is that
we are not. It was a danger we did not foresee,”

“I feared it,” answered NichoU simply.

‘And you did not say anything about it, sublime cap-
lain! * cried Michel Ardan, shaking his companion’s hand.

In the meantime Barbicane was making his arrangements
in the projectile as though he was never going to leave it.
It wiU be remembered that its base was fifty-four feet
squ^e. It was twelve feet high, and admirably fitted up in
the interior. It was not much encumbered by the instru¬
ments and travelling utensils, which were aU in special
places, and it left some Uberty of movement to its three
mhabitants. The thick glass let into a pan of the floor could
bear considerable weight. Barbicane and his companions
wa^ed upon it as weU as upon a soUd floor; but the sun,
which struck it directly with its rays, lighting the interior

of the projectile from below, produced unusual effects of
Ught.

They began by examining the state of the water and
provision containers. They were not in the least damaged,
thanks to the precautions taken to deaden the shock. The
provisions were abundant, and sufficient for one year.
Barbicane took this precaution in case the projectile should
arrive upon an absolutely barren part of the moon. There

R.M.—C 33

ROUND THE MOON

was only enough water and brandy for two months. But
according to the latest observations of astronomers, the
moon had a dense low and thick atmosphere at least in its
deepest valleys, and there must be streams and water¬
courses. 'Fherefore the adventurous explorers would not
suffer from hunger or thirst during the journey, and the
first year upon the lunar continent.

The question of air in the interior of the projectile also
offered all security. The Reiser and Regnaut apparatus,
destined to produce oxygen, was furnished with enough
chlorate of potass for two months. It necessarily consumed
a large quantity of gas, for it was obliged to keep the
productive matter up to loo*. But there was abundance of
that also. The apparatus wanted little looking after as it
worked automatically. At that high temperature the chlorate
of potass changed into chlorine of potassium, and gave out
all the ox>'gen it contained. The eighteen pounds of chlorate
of potass gave out the seven pounds of oxygen necessary for
the daily consumption of the three travellers.

But it was not enough to renew the ox> gen consumed; the
carbonic acid gas produced by expiration must also be
absorbed. Now for the last twelve hours the atmosphere of
the cabin had become loaded with this deleterious gas, the
product of the combustion of the elements of blood by the
oxygen taken into the lungs. NichoU perceived this state of
the air by seeing Diana breathing heavily. In fact, carbonic
acid gas—through a phenomenon identical with the one
to be noticed in the famous Dog*s Grotto—accumulated at
the bottom of the projectile by reason qf its weight. Poor
Diana, whose head was low down, therefore necessarily
suffered from it before her masters. But Captain NichoU
made haste to remedy this state of things. He placed
on the floor of the projectile several receptacles containing
caustic potass w'hich he shook about for some time, and this
matter, which is very greedy of carbonic acid, completely
absorbed it, and thus purified the air.

An invenior>’ of the instruments was then begun. The

34

TAKING POSSESSION

thermometers and barometers were undamaged, with the
exception of a minimum thermometer, the glass of which
was broken. An excellent aneroid was taken out of its
padded box and hung upon the wall. Of course it was only
acted upon by and indicated the pressure of the air inside
the projectile; but it also indicated the quantity of moisture
it contained. At that moment its needle oscillated between
25.24 and 25.08. It was at “set fair.”

Barbicane had brought several compasses, which were
found intact. It will be easily understood that under those
circumstances their needles were acting at random, with-
out any constant direction. In fact, at the distance the
projectile was from the earth the magnetic pole could not
exercise any sensible action upon the apparatus. But these
compasses, taken upon the lunar disc, might reveal some
particular phenomena. In any case it would be interesting
to verify whether the earth^s satellite, like the eanh herself,
submitted to magnetical influence.

A hypsometer to measure the altitude of the lunar
mountains, a sextant to take the height of the sun, a theo¬
dolite, an instrument for surveying, telescopes to be used as
the moon approached—all these instruments were carefully
inspected and found in good condition, notwithstanding the
violence of the initial shock.

As to the equipment—pickaxes, spades, and different
tools—of which Nicholl had made a special collection, the
sacks of various kinds of grain, and the shrubs which Michel
Ardan counted upon transplanting into moon’s soil, they
were in their places in the upper corners of the projectile.
There was made a sort of granary, which the prodigal
Frenchman had filled. What was in it was very little known,
and the merry fellow did not enlighten anybody. From time
to time he climbed up the cramp-irons riveted in the walls
to this store-room, the inspection of which he had reserved
to himself. He arranged and re-arranged, plunged his hand
rapidly into certain mysterious boxes, singing all the time
in a voice very out of tune, some old French song.

35

ROUND-THE MOON

Barbicane noticed with interest that his rockets, etc., were
not damaged. These were important, for, powerfully loaded,
they were meant to slacken the speed with which the projec¬
tile would, when attracted by the moon after passing the
point of neutral attraction, fall upon her surface. This fall
besides would be six times less rapid than it would have been
upon the surface of the earth, thanks to the difference of
mass in the two bodies.

The inspection ended, therefore, in general satisfaction.
Then they all returned to their posts of observation at the
lateral and lower port-lights.

The same spectacle was spread before them. All the
extent of the celestial sphere swarmed with stars and con¬
stellations of mar\'ellous brilliancy, enough to make an
astronomer wild! On one side the sun, like the mouth of a
fier>* furnace, shone upon the dark background of the
heavens. On the other side the moon, reflecting back his
fires, seemed motionless amidst the starr>' world. Then a
large spot, like a hole in the firmament, bordered still by a
slight thread of silver—it was the earth. Here and there
nebulous masses like large snow-flakes, and from zenith to
nadir an immense ring, formed of an impalpable dust of
stars—the milky way in which the sun only counts as a star
of the fourth magnitude!

The obser\’crs could not take their eyes olf a spectacle so
new, of which no description could give any idea. V(^at
reflections it suggested! WTiat unknown emotions it aroused
in the soul! Barbicane wished to begin the recital of his
journey under the empire of these impressions, and he
noted down hourly all the events that signalized the begin¬
ning of his enterprise. He wrote tranquilly in his large and
rather commercial-looking handwriting.

During that time the calculating Kicholl looked over the
formula: of trajectories, and worked away at figures with
unparalleled dexterity. Michel Ardan talked sometimes to
Barbicane, who did not answer much, to NichoU, who did
not hear, and to Diana, who did not understand his

36

TAKING POSSESSION

theories, and lastly to himself, making questions and
answers, going and coming, occupying himself with a
thousand details, sometimes leaning over the lower port-
light, sometimes roosting in the heights of the projectile,
singing all the time.

TTie day, or rather—for the expression is not correct—the
lapse of twelve hours which makes a day upon earth—was
ended by a copious supper carefully prepared. No incident
of a nature to shake the confidence of the travellers had
happened', so, full of hope and already sure of success, they
went to sleep peacefully, whilst the projectile, at a uniformly
increasing speed, made its way in the heavens.

CHAPTER IV

A LITTLE ALGEBRA

I'he night passed without incident. Correctly speaking, the
word “night” is an improper one. The position of the
projectile in regard to the sun did not change. Astronomically
it was day on the bottom of the projectile, and night on the
top. VC’lien, therefore, these two words are used they express
the lapse of time between the rising and setting of the sun
upon earth.

The travellers* sleep was so much the more peaceful
because, notwithstanding its excessive speed, the projectile
seemed absolutely motionless. No movement indicated its
journey through space. However rapidly change of place
may be effected, it cannot produce any sensible effect upon
the organism when it takes place in the void, or when the
mass of air circulates along with the travelling body. VC'hai
inhabitant of the earth perceives the speed which carries
him along at the rate of 68,000 miles an hour? Movement
under such circumstances is not felt more than rest. Every
object is indifferent to it. W'hen a body is at rest it remains
so until some foreign force puts it in movement. When in
motion it would never stop if some obstacle w'ere not placed
in its path. This indifference to movement or rest is inertia.

Barbicane and his companions could, therefore, imagine
themselves absolutely motionless, shut up in the interior of
the projectile. The effect would have been the same if they
had placed themselves on the outside. Without the moon,
wliich grew larger above them, and the earth that grew
smaller below, they would have sworn they were suspended.

That morning, the 3rd of December, they were awakened
by a jo\*ful but unexpected noise. It was the crowing of a
cock in the interior of their vehicle.

38

A LITTLE ALGEBRA

Michel Ardan was the first to get up; he climbed to the
top of the projectile and closed a partly open case.

“Be quiet,” said he in a whisper. “TTiat animal will spoil
my plan!”

In the meantime Nicholl and Barbicane awoke.

“Was that a cock?” said Nicholl.

“No, my friends,” answered Michel quickly. “I wished
to awake you with that rural sound.”

So saying he gave vent to a cock-a-doodle-do which
would have done honour to the proudest of cocks.

The two Americans could not help laughing.

“A fine accomplishment that,” said Nicholl, looking
suspiciously at his companion.

“Yes,” answered Michel, “a joke common in my country.
It is very Gallic. We perpetrate it in the best society.”

Then turning the conversation—

“Barbicane, do you know what I have been thinking about
aU night?”

“No,” answered the president.

“About our friends at Cambridge. You have already
remarked how ignorant I am of mathematics. I find it, there¬
fore, impossible to guess how our friends at the observatory
could c^culate what initial velocity the projectile ought to
reach on leaving the Columbiad in order to reach the moon.”

“You mean,” replied Barbicane, “in order to reach that
neutral point where the terrestrial and lunar attractions are
equal; for beyond this point, situated at about 0 9 of the
distance, the projectile will fall upon the moon by virtue of
its own weight.”

“Very well,” answered Michel; “but once more; how did
they calculate the initial velocity?”

“Nothing is easier,” said Barbicane.

“And could you have made the calculation yourself?”
asked Michel Ardan.

“Certainly; Nicholl and I could have determined it if the
report from the observatory had not saved us the trouble.”

“Well, old fellow,” answered Michel, “they might sooner

39

ROUND THE MOON

cut off my head, beginning with my feet, than have made
me solve that problem!**

“Because you do not know algebra,** replied Barbicane
tranquilly.

“Ah, that’s just like you dealers in x\ You think you have
explained everjThing when you have said ‘algebra.* **

“Michel,’* replied Barbicane, “do you think it possible to
forge without a hammer, or to plough without a plough¬
share?”

“It would be difficult.”

“Well, then, algebra is a tool like a plough or a hammer,
and a good tool for anyone who knows how to use it.”
“Seriouslv?”

“Quite.”

“Could you use that tool before me?”

“If it would interest you.”

“And could you show me how they calculated the initial
speed of our vehicle?”

“Yes, my worthy friend. By taking into account all the
elements of the problem, the distance from the centre of the
earth to the centre of the moon, of the radius of the earth,
the mass of the eanh and the mass of the moon, I can
determine exactly what the initial speed of the projectile
ought to be, and that by a very simple formula.”

“Show me the formula.”

“You shall see it. Only I will not give you the curv’e really
traced by the projectile benveen the earth and the moon, by
taking into account their movement of translation round the
sun. No. I will consider both bodies to be motionless, and
that will be sufficient for us.’*

“Wffiy?”

Because that would be seeking to solve the problem
called ‘the problem of the three bodies,* for which the
integral calculus is not yet far enough advanced.”

Indeed, said Michel Ardan in a bantering tone; “then
mathematics have not said their last word.”

“Certainly not,” answered Barbicane.

40

A LITTLE ALGEBRA

“Good! Perhaps the Selenites have pushed the integral
calculus further than you! By the by, what is the integral
calculus?”

“It is the inverse of the differential calculus,” answered
Barbicane seriously.

*‘Much obliged.”

“It is the algebra of change.”

“That is clear at least,” answered Barbicane with a quite
satisfied air.

“And now,” continued Barbicane, “for a piece of paper
and a pencil, and in half an hour I will have found the
required formula.”

That said, Barbicane became absorbed in his work, whilst
NichoU looked into space, leaving the care of preparing
breakfast to his companion.

Half an hour had scarcely elapsed before Barbicane,
raising his head, showed Michel Ardan a page covered with
algebraical signs amidst which the following general formula
was discernible:—

“And what does that mean?” asked Michel.

“That means,” answered NichoU, “that the half of v
minus v zero square equals gr multipUed by r upon x square
minus i plus m prime upon m multipUed by r upon d
minus x, minus r upon d minus r-”

“x upon y galloping upon z and rearing up)on />,” cried
Michel Ardan, bursting out laughing. “Do you mean to say
you understand that, captain?”

“Nothing is clearer.”

“Then,” said Michel Ardan, “it is as plain as a pikestaff,
and I want nothing more.”

“Everlasting laughter,” said Barbicane, “you wanted
algebra, and now you shaU have it over head and ears.”

“I would rather be hung!”

“That appears a good solution, Barbicane,** said NichoU,

41

ROUND THE MOON

who was examining the formula like a connaisseur. “It is the
integral of the equation of‘vis viva,* and I do not doubt that
it will give us the desired result.”

“But I should like to understand!” exclaimed Michel.
“I would give ten years of Nicholl’s life to understand!**
“Then listen,” resumed Barbicane. “The half of v minus
V zero square is the formula that gives us the demi-variation
of the ‘vis viva.’ ’*

“Good; and does Nicholl understand what that means?**
“Certainly, Michel,” answered the captain. “All those
signs that look so cabalistic to you form the clearest and most
logical language for those who know how to read it.**

“And do you pretend, NichoU,” asked Michel, “that by
means of these hieroglyphics, more incomprehensible than
those of the Egyptian, you can find the initial speed neces¬
sary to give to the projectile?”

“Incontestably,” answered NichoU; “and even by that
formula I could always leU you what speed it is going at on
any point of the journey.”

“Upon vour word of honour?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are as clever as our president.”

“No, Michel, aU the difficulty consists in what Barbicane
has done. It is to establish an equation which takes into
account all the conditions of the problem. The rest is only a
question of arithmetic and requires nothing but a knowledge
of the four rules.”

“That’s something,” answered Michel Ardan, who had
never been able to make a correct addition in his life, and
who thus defined the rule: “A Chinese puzzle, by which
you can obtain infinitely various results.**

Still Barbicane answered that Nicholl would certainly

have found the formula had he thought about it.

“I do not know if I should,” said Nicholl, “for the more

I study it the more marvellously correct I find it.**

Now listen, ’ said Barbicane to his ignorant comrade,

“and you wUl see that all these letters have a signification **
42

A LITTLE ALGEBRA

“I am listening,** said Michel, looking resigned.

“D,** said Barbicane, “is the distance from the centre of
the earth to the centre of the moon, for we must take the
' centres to calculate the attraction.*’

“That I understand.**

“—R is the radius of the earth.’*

“— R, radius; admitted.”

“—M is the mass of the earth; m prime that of the moon.
We are obliged to take into account the volume of the two
attracting bodies, as the attraction is in proportion to the
mass.**

“I understand that.”

“—^ represents the constant of gravity, the speed acquired
at the end of a second by a body falling to the surface of the
earth. Is that clear?”

“A mountain stream!” answered Michel.

“Now I represent by x the variable distance that separates
the projectile from the centre of the earth, and by v the
velocity the projectile has at that distance.”

“Good.”

“Lastly, the expression v zero which figures in the
equation is the speed the body possesses when it emerges
from the atmosphere.”

“Yes,” said NichoU, “you were obliged to calculate the
velocity from that point, because we knew before that the
velocity at departure is exactly equal to ^ of the velocity
upon emerging from the atmosphere.”

“Don’t understand any morel” said Michel.

“Yet it is very simple,” said Barbicane.

“I do not find it very simple,” replied Michel.

“ It means that when our projectile reached the limit of
the terrestrial atmosphere it had already lost one-third of its
initial velocity.”

“As much as that?”

“Yes, my friend, simply by friction against the atmos¬
phere. You will easily understand that the greater its speed
the more resistance it would meet with from the air.”

43

ROUND THE MOON

“That I admit,” answered Aiichel, “and I understand it,
although your v zero two and your v zero square shake about
in my head like nails in a sack.”

“First effect of algebra,” continued Barbicane. “And now
to finish we are going to find the numerical known quantity
of these different expressions—that is to say, find out their
value.”

“You will finish me first!” answered Michel.

“Some of these expressions,” said Barbicane, “are known;
the others have to be calculated.”

“I will calculate those,” said NichoU.

“And r,” resumed Barbicane, “r is the radius of the
earth at the latitude of Florida, our point of departure,
d —that is to say, the distance from the centre of the earth to
the centre of the moon equals fift>’-six terrestrial radii-”

Nicholl rapidly calculated.

“That makes 356,720,000 metres when the moon is at her
perigee—that is to say, when she is nearest to the earth.”

“Very well,” said Barbicane, “now m prime upon m —
that is to say, the proportion of the moon’s mass to that of
the earth equals ”

“Perfect,” said Michel.

“And g, the gravity, is to Florida 9^ metres. From
whence it results that gr equals-”

“Sixty-two million four hundred and tw'enty-sLx thousand
square metres,” answered Nicholl.

“VCTiat next?” asked Michel Ardan.

“Now that the expressions are reduced to figures, I am
going to find the velocity zero—that is to say, the velocity
that the projectile ought to have on leaving the atmosphere
to reach the point of equal attraction w’iih no v'elocity. Tlie
velocity at that point I make equal zeroy and x, the distance
where the neutral point is, will be represented by the nine-
tenths of d —that is to say, the distance that separates the
two centres.”

“I have some vague idea that it ought to be so,” said
Michel.

44

A LITTLE ALGEBRA

“I shall then have, x equals nine-tenths of and v equals

zero, and my formula-will become-”

Barbicane wrote rapidly on the paper—

2gr

lor 1 I lor
9 d. ^ \ ~~d~

Nicholl read it quickly.

‘Tliat’s it! that is it!” he cried.

“Is it clear?” asked Barbicane.

“It is written in letters of fire!” answered Nicholl.

“Clever fellows!” murmured Michel.

“Do you understand now?” asked Barbicane.

“If I understand!” cried Michel Ardan. “My head is
bursting with it.”

“Thus,” resumed Barbicane, “v zero square equals 2 gr
multiplied by i minus lo r upon 9 d minus ^ multiplied by
10 r upon d minus r upon d minus r.”

“And now,” said Nicholl, “in order to obtain the velocity
of the body as it emerges from the atmosphere I have only
to calculate.”

The captain, like a man used to overcome all difficulties,
began to calculate with frightful rapidity. Divisions and
multiplications grew under his fingers. Figures dotted the
page. Barbicane followed him with his eyes, whilst Michel
Ardan compressed a coming headache with his two hands.

“Well, what do you make it?” asked Barbicane after
several minutes* silence.

“I make it 11,051 metres in the first second.’*

“What do you say?” said Barbicane, starting.

“Eleven thousand and fifty-one metres.*’

“Malediction!** cried the president with a gesture of
despair.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Michel Ardan,
much surprised.

“The matter! Why if at this moment the velocity was
already diminished one-third by friction, the initial speed
ought to have been-”

45

ROUND THE MOON

“Sixteen thousand five hundred and seventy-six metres!”
answered NichoU.

“But the Cambridge Observatory declared that ii,ooo
metres were enough at departure, and our projectile started
with that velocity only!”

“Well?” asked NichoU.

“W’hy it was not enough!”

“No.”

“We shall not reach the neutral point.”

“The devil!”

“We shaU not even go half-way!”

'"Nom d'un bouletV' exclaimed Michel Ardan, jumping
up as if the projectile were on the point of striking against
the terrestrial globe.

“And we shall fall back upon the earth I”

46

CHAPTER V

THE TEMPERATURE OF SPACE

This revelation aaed like a thunderbolt. Who could have

expected such an error in calculation? Barbicane would not

believe it. NichoU went over the figures again. They were

correa. The formula which had estabUshed them could not

be mistrusted, and, when verified, the initial velocity of

16,576 metres, necessary for attaining the neutral point, was
found quite right.

The three friends looked at one another in silence. No
one thought about breakfast after that. Barbicane, with set
teeth, contraaed brow, and fists convulsively closed, looked
throu^ the pott-Ught. NichoU folded his arms and
ex^ned his calculations. Michel Ardan murmured—
That^s just like experts! That’s the way they always do >
I would give anythmg to fall upon the Cambridge Obser-
vatoiy and crush it, with all its stupid staff inside!”

An at once the captain made a reflection which struck
Barbicane at once.

o’clock in the morning, so
we have been thirty-two hours on the road. We have come
m^re than half-way, and we are not falling y«"that I Sow

Barbi^ne did not answer, but after a rapid glance at the
capt^n he took a compass, which he used to measure the

the terrestrial globe. Then through the
lower port-light he made a very exact observation from the
apparent immobUity of the projectUe. Then rising and
wipmg the perspiration from his brow, he put down some
figure upon paper. NichoU saw that *e pres denTl shed

disl T *0 terrestrial dtWteT ^^

dmance from the earth. He looked at him anxiousTy

47

ROL'ND THE MOON

“No!” cried Barbicane in a few minutes’ time, “we are
not falling! are already more than 50,000 leagues from
the earth I We have passed the point the projectile ought to
have stopped at if its speed had been only 11,000 metres at
our departure! We are still ascending!”

“That is evident,” answered Nicholl; “so we must
conclude that our initial velocity, under the propulsion of
the 400,000 lbs. of gun-conon, was greater than the 11,000
metres. I can now explain to myself why we met with the
second satellite, that gravitates at more than 2,000 leagues
from the earth, in less than thirteen minutes.”

“That explanation is so much the more probable,” added
Barbicane, “because by throwing out the water in our
movable partitions the projectile was made considerably
lighter all at once.”

“Tliat is true,” said Nicholl.

“Ah, my brave Nicholl,” cried Barbicane, “we are saved!”

“Very* well then,” answered Michel Ardan tranquilly,
“as we are saved, let us have breakfast.”

Nicholl was not mistaken. The initial speed had happily
been greater than that indicated by the Cambridge Obser-
vator>\ but the Cambridge Observatory’ had been mistaken.

The travellers, recovered from their false alarm, sat down
to table and breakfasted merrily. Though they ate much
they talked more. Their conhdence was greater after the
“algebra incident.”

“Why should we not succeed?” repeated Michel Ardan.
“Why should we not arrive? We are on the road; there are
no obstacles before us, and no stones on our route. It is
free—freer than that of a ship that has to struggle with the
sea, or a balloon with the wind against it! Now if a ship can
go where it pleases, or a balloon ascend where it pleases,
why should not our projectile reach the goal it was aimed
at?”

“It will reach it,” said Barbicane.

“If only to honour the American nation,” added Michel
Ardan, “the only nation capable of making such an enter-

48

THE TEMPERATURE OF SPACE

prise succeed—the only one that could have produced a
President Barbicane! Ah! now I think of it, now that all our
anxieties are over, what will become of us? We shall be as
dull as stagnant water.**

Barbicane and NichoU made gestures of protest.

“But I foresaw this, my friends,** resumed Michel Ardan.
“You have only to say the word. I have chess, backgammon,
cards and dominoes at your disposition. We only want a
billiard-table!**

“What?** asked Barbicane, “did you bring such trifles as
those?**

“Certainly,** answered Michel; “not only for our amuse¬
ment, but also in the praiseworthy intention of bestowing
them upon Selenite inns.’*

“My friend,” said Barbicane, “if the moon is inhabited
its inhabitants appeared some thousands of years before
those of the earth, for it cannot be doubted that the moon is
older than the earth. If, therefore, the Seleniies have
existed for thousands of centuries—if their brains are
organized like that of human beings—they have invented
all that we have invented already, and even what we shall
only invent in the lapse of centuries. They will have
nothing to leam from us, and we shall have everything to
learn from them.”

“What!” answered Michel, “do you think they have had
artists like Phidias, Michael Angelo, or Raphael?”

“Yes.”

“Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, and
Hugo?”

“I am sure of it.”

“Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle,Descartes,and Kant?”

“I have no doubt of it.”

“Scientists like Archimedes, Euclid, Pascal, and Newton ?”

“I could swear it.”

“Clowns like Amal, and photographers like—Nadar?”

“I am certain of it.”

“TTien, friend Barbicane, if these Selenites are as learned
R.M.—D 49

ROL'ND THE MOON

as we, and even more so, why have they not hurled a lunar
projectile as far as the terrestrial regions?”

‘‘NX'ho says they have not done it?” answered Barbicane
seriously.

“In fact,” added Nicholl, “it would have been easier for
them than for us, and that for tw’o reasons—the first
because the attraction is si.x times less on the surface of the
moon than on the surface of the earth, which would allow
a projectile to go up more easily; secondly the projectile
would only have 8,000 leagues to travel instead of 80,000,
which would require a force of propulsion ten times less.”

“Then,” resumed Michel, “I repeat—why have they not
done it?” ,

“And I ” replied Barbicane, “I repeat—w’ho says they
have not done it?”

“When?”

“Hundreds of centuries ago, before man’s appearance
upon earth.”

“And the projectile? VCTiere is the projectile? I ask to see
it!”

“My friend,” answered Barbicane, “the sea covers five-
sixths of our globe, hence there are five good reasons for
supposing that the lunar projectile, if it has been fired, is
now submerged at the bottom of the Atlantic or Pacific,
unless it was buried down some abyss at the epoch when the
earth’s crust was not sufficiently formed.”

“Old fellow,” answered AMichel, “you have an answer to
everything, and I bow before your wisdom. There is one
hypothesis I would rather believe than the others, and it is
that the Selenites being older than we are w'iser and have not
invented gunpowder at all.”

At that moment Diana claimed her share in the conversa¬
tion by a sonorous bark. She asked for her breakfast.

“Ah!” said Michel Ardan, “our arguments make us
forget Diana and Satellite!”

A good dish of food was immediately offered to the dog,
who devoured it with great appetite.

50

THE TEMPERATURE OF SPACE

“Do you know, Barbicane,** said Michel, “we ought to
have made this projectile a sort of Noah’s Ark, and have taken
a couple of all the domestic animals with us to the moon.”

“No doubt,” answered Barbicane, “but we should not
have had room enough.”

“Oh, we might have been packed a little tighter!”

“The fact is,” answered NichoU, “that oxen, cows, bulls,
and horses, all those ruminants would be useful on the lunar
continent. Unfortunately we cannot make our projectile
either a stable or a cowshed.”

“But at least,” said Michel Ardan, "we might have
brought an ass, nothing but a little ass, the courageous and
patient animal old Silenus loved to exhibit. I am fond of
those poor asses! They are the least favoured animals in
creation. They are not only beaten during their lifetime, but
are still beaten after their death!”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Barbicane.

“Why, don’t they use his skin to make drums of?”

Barbicane and NichoU could not help laughing at this
absurd reflection. But a cry from their merry companion
stopped them; he was bending over Satellite’s niche, and
rose up saying:

“Good! Satellite is no longer ill.”

“Ah!” said NichoU.

“No!” resumed Michel, “he is dead. Now,” he added in
a pitiful tone, “this wiU be embarrassing! I very much fear,
poor Diana, that you will not leave any of your race in the
lunar regions!”

The unfortunate Satellite had not been able to survive
his wounds. He was dead, stone dead. Michel Ardan, mu<di
put out of countenance, looked at his friends.

“This makes another difficulty,” said Barbicane. “We
can’t keep the dead body of this dog with us for another
eight-and-forty hours.” ^ '

“No, certainly not,” answered NichoU, “but our port-
lights are hung upon hinges. They can be let down. We wiU
open one of them, and throw the body into space.”

51

ROUND THE MOON

The president reflected for a few minutes, and then said:

“^"es, that is what we must do, but we must take the most
minute precautions.’*

“VC'liy?” asked Michel.

“For two reasons that I will explain to you,** answered
Barbicane. “The first has reference to the air in the
projectile, of which we must lose as little as possible.”

“But we can renew the air!”

“Not entirely. We can only renew the ox>’gen, Michel;
and, by the bye we must be careful that the apparatus do
not furnish us with this ox>'gen in an immoderate quantity,
for an excess of it would cause grave physiological con¬
sequences. But although we can renew the o.xygen we
cannot renew the azote, that medium which the lungs do
not absorb, and which ought to remain intact. Now* the
azote would rapidly escape if the port-lights were opened.”

“Not just the time necessary to throw poor Satellite out.”

“Agreed; but we must do it quickly.”

“And what is the second reason?” asked Michel.

“The second reason is that we must not allow the exterior
cold, which is e.xcessive, to penetrate into our projectile lest
we should be frozen alive.”

“Still the sun-”

“I'he sun warms our projectile because it absorbs its
rays, but it does not warm the void we are in now. W^^en
there is no air there is no more heat than there is diffused
light, and where the sun’s rays do not reach directly it is
both dark and cold. The temperature outside is only that
produced by the radiation of the stars—that is to say, the
same as the temperature of the terrestrial globe would be if
one day the sun were to be extinguished.”

“No fear of that,” answered Nicholl.

“Who knows?” said Alichel Ardiin. “And even supposing
that the sun be not extinguished, it might happen that the
earth will move farther away from it.”

“Good!” said Nicholl; “that’s one of Michel’s ideas!”

“Well,” resumed Aiichel, “it is well known that in i86i

52

THE TEMPERATURE OF SPACE

the earth went through the tail of a comet. Now suppose
there was a comet with a power of attraction greater than
that of the sun, the terrestrial globe might make a curve
towards the wandering star, and the earth would become
its satellite, and would be dragged away to such a distance
that the rays of the sun would have no action on its surface.”

“That might happen certainly,” answered Barbicane,
“but the consequences would not be so redoubtable as you
would suppose.”

“How so?”

“Because heat and cold would still be pretty well
balanced upon our globe. It has been calculated that if the
earth had been carried away by the comet of i86i, it would
only have felt, when at its greatest distance from the sun, a
heat sixteen times greater than that sent to us by the moon—
a heat which, when focused by the strongest lens, produces
no appreciable effect.”

“WeU?” said Michel.

“Wait a little,” answered Barbicane. “It has been calcu¬
lated that at its perihelion, when nearest to the sun, the
earth would have borne a heat equal to 28,000 times that of
summer. But this heat, capable of vitrifying terrestrial
matters, and of evaporating water, would have formed a
thick circle of clouds which would have lessened the
excessive heat, hence there would be compensation between
the cold of the aphelion and the heat of the perihelion, and
an average probably supportable.”

“At what number of degrees do they estimate the
temperature of the planetary space?”

“Formerly,” answered Barbicane, “it was believed that
this temperature was exceedingly low. By calculating its
thermometric diminution it was hxed at millions of degrees
below zero. It was Fourier, one of Michel’s countrymen, an
illustrious scientist of the Acadhnie des Sciences^ who
reduced these numbers to a more accurate estimation.
According to him, the temperature of space does not get
lower than 60® Centigrade.”

53

ROUND THE MOON

Michel whistled.

“It is about the temperature of the polar regions,”
answered Barbicane, *‘at Melville Island or Fort Reliance—
about 56® Centigrade below zero.”

“It remains to be proved,” said Nicholl, “that Founer
was not mistaken in his calculations. If I am not mistaken,
another Frenchman, M. Pouillet, estimates the temperature
of space at 160® below zero. We shall be able to verify that.”

“Not now,” answered Barbicane, “for the solar rays
striking directly upon our thermometer would give us, on
the contrary, a very high temperature. But when we get
upon the moon, during the nights, a fortnight long, which
each of its faces endures alternately, we shall have leisure to
make the experiment, for our satellite moves in the void.”

“What do you mean by the void?” asked Michel; “is it
absolute void?”

“It is absolutely void of air.”

“Is there nothing in its place?”

“Yes, ether,” answered Barbic'ane.

“Ah! and what is ether?”

“Ether, my friend, is an agglomeration of imponderable
particles, which, relatively to their dimensions, are as far
removed from each other as the celestial bodies are in space.
It is these atoms that by their vibrating movement produce
light and heat by making four hundred and thirty billions
of oscillations a second.”

“Millions of millions!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “then
scientists have measured and counted these oscillations!
All these figures, friend Barbicane, are scientists’ figures,
which reach the ear, but say nothing to the mind.”

“But they are obliged to have recourse to figures.”

“No. It would be much better to compare. A billion
signifies nothing. An object of comparison explains every¬
thing. Example—NX’hen you tell me that Uranus is 76 times
larger than the earth, Saturn 900 times larger. Jupiter 1,300
limes larger, the sun 1,300,000 times larger, I am not much
wiser. So I much prefer the comparisons that simply tells

54

THE TEMPERATURE OF SPACE

you, ‘The sun is a pumpkin two feet in diameter, Jupiter an
orange, Saturn a Blenheim apple, Neptune a large cherry,
Uranus a smaller cherry, the earth a pea, Venus a green pea.
Mars the head of a large pin. Mercury a grain of mustard,
and Juno, Ceres, Vesta, and Pallas fine grains of sand*! Then
I know what it means!**

After this tirade of Michel Ardan*s against the scientists
and their billions, which he delivered without stopping to
take breath, they set about burying Satellite. He was to be
thrown into space like sailors ^row a corpse into the sea.

As President Barbicane had recommended, they had to
act quickly so as to lose as little air as possible. The bolts
upon the right-hand port-hole were carefully unscrewed,
and an opening of about half a yard made, whilst Michel
prepared to hurl his dog into space. The window, worked
by a powerful lever, which conquered the pressure of air
in the interior upon the sides of the projectile, moved upon
its hinges, and Satellite was thrown out. Scarcely a particle
of air escaped, and the operation succeeded so well that
later on Barbicane did not fear to get rid of all the useless
rubbish that encumbered the vehicle in the same way.

55

CHAPTER VI

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

On the 4ih of December, at 5 a.m. by terrestrial reckoning,
the travellers awoke, having been fifty-four hours on their
journey. They had only been five hours and forty minutes
more than half the time assigned for the accomplishment of
their journey, but they had come more than seven-tenths
of the distance. This peculiarity was due to their regularly-
increasing speed.

When they looked at the earth through the port-light at
the bottom, it only looked like a black spot drowned in the
sun’s rays. No crescent or pale light was now to be seen.
The next day at midnight the earth would be new at the
precise moment when the moon would be full. Above the
Queen of Night was nearing the line followed by the
projectile, so as to meet it at the hour indicated. All around
the dark vault was studded with brilliant specks which
seemed to move slowly; but through the great distance they
were at their relative size did not seem to alter much. Tlie
sun and the stars appeared exactly as they do from the earth.
The moon was considerably enlarged; but the travellers’
not very powerful telescopes did not as yet allow them to
make very useful observations of her surface or to recon¬
noitre the topographical or geological details.

'fhe time went by in interminable conversations. The talk
was especially about the moon. Each contributed his share
of panicul.ir knowledge. Barbicane’s and NichoU’s were
always serious, .Michel .-Xrdan’s alwavs fanciful. The
projectile, its situation and direction, the incidents that
might arise, th.e precautions necessitated by its fall upon the
moon, all this afforded inexhaustible material for conjecture.

Wliilst breakfasting a question of .Michel’s provoked a

56

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

rather curious answer from 6arbicane> and one worthy of
being recorded.

Michel, supposing the projectile to be suddenly stopped
whilst still endowed with its formidable initial velocity,
wished to know what the consequences would have been.

“But,” answered Barbicane, “I don’t see how the
projectile could have been stopped.”

“But let us suppose it,” answered NichoU.

“It is an impossible supposition,” replied the practical
president, “unless the force of impulsion had failed. But
in that case its speed would have gradually decreased and
it would not have stopped abruptly.”

“Admit that it had struck against some body in space.”

“What body?”

“The enormous meteor we met.”

“Then,” said NichoU, “the projectile would have been
broken into a thousand pieces, and we with it,”

“More than that,” answered Barbicane, “we should have
been burnt alive.”

“Burnt!” exclaimed Michel. “I regret it did not happen
for us just to see.”

“^d you would have seen with a vengeance,” answered
Barbicane. “It is known that heat is only a form of motion,
when water is heated—that is to say, when heat is added to

particles of which it is composed are set in move¬
ment.”

“That is an ingenious theory!” said Michel.

“And a correct one, my worthy friend, for it explains aU
the known phenomena. Heat is only molecular movement,
a simple oscUlation of the panicles of a body. Do you
understand?”

“Admirably,” answered Michel. “For example, when I
have been runmng some time, and am covered with sweat,
why am I forced to stop? Simply because my movement has
been transformed into heat.”

Barbicane could not help laughing at this repartie of
Michel’s. Then resuming his theory—

57

ROUND THE MOON

“Thus,” said he, “in case of a collision, the same would
have happened to our projectile as does to a metal cannon¬
ball after striking armour-plate; it would fall burning,
because its movement had been transformed into heat. In
consequence, I affirm that if our projectile had struck the
asteroid, its speed, suddenly annihilated, would have
produced heat enough to turn it immediately into vapour.”

“Then,” asked Nicholl, “what would happen if the earth
were to be suddenly stopped in her movement?”

“Her temperature would be carried to such a point,”
answered Barbicane, “that she would be immediately re¬
duced to vapour.”

“Good,” said Alichel; “that means of ending the world
would simplify many things.”

“And suppose the earth were to fall upon the sun?” said
Nicholl.

“According to calculations,” answered Barbicane, “that
would develop a heat equal to that produced by i,6oo globes
of coal, equal to the mass of the earth.”

“A good increase of temperature for the sun,” replied
Michel Ardan, “of w'hich the inhabitants of Uranus or
Neptune will probably not complain, for they must be
dying of cold on their planet.”

“Thus, then, my friends, any movement suddenly stopped
produces heat. This theor>' makes one suppose that the sun
is constantly fed by an incessant fall of bodies upon its
surface. It has been calculated-”

“Now I shall be crushed,” murmured Michel, “for
figures are coming.”

“It has been calculated,” continued Barbicane impertur¬
bably, “that the shock of each asteroid upon the sun must
produce heat equal to that of 4,000 masses of coal of equal
volume.”

“And what is the heat of the sun?” asked Michel.

“It is equal to that which would be produced by a stratum
of coal surrounding the sun to a depth of twenty-seven
kilometres.”

58

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

“And that heat-**

“Could boil 2,900,000,000 of cubic myriametres of water
an hour.” (A myriametre is equal to rather more than
6 2138 miles, or 6 miles i furlong 28 poles.)

“And we are not roasted by it?” cried Michel.

“No,” answered Barbicane, “because the terrestrial
atmosphere absorbs four-tenths of the solar heat. Besides,
the quantity of heat intercepted by the earth is only two
thousand millionth of the total.”

“I see that aU is for the best,” repUed Michel, “and that
our atmosphere is a useful invention, for it not only allows
us to breathe, but actually prevents us roasting.”

“Yes,” said NichoU, “but, unfortunately, it will not be
the same on the moon.”

“B^!” said Michel, always confident. “If there are any
inhabitants they breathe. If there are no longer any they
will surely have left enough oxygen for three people, if only
at the bottom of those ravines where it will have accumulated
by reason of its weight! Well, we shall not climb the moun¬
tains! That is all.”

^d Michel, getting up, went to look at the lunar disc,
which was shining with fantastic brilliancy.

“Faith!” said he, “it must be hot up there.”

“Without reckoning,” answered NichoU, “that dayUght
lasts 360 hours.”

“And by way of compensation night has the same
duration,” s^d Barbicane, “and as heat is restored by
radiation, their temperature must be that of planetary space ”
“A fine country truly!” said NichoU.

Never mind! I should like to be there already! It wiU

a moon, to see it rise on the
horizon, to recognize the continents, to say to oneself,
‘There’s America and there’s Europe’; then to foUow it till
It IS lost m the rays of the sun. By the by, Barbicane, have
the Selcmies any eclipses?’^

Yes, eclipses of the sun,” answered Barbicane, “when
the centres of the three stars are on the same line with the

59

ROLND THE MOON

earth in the middle. But they are merely annular eclipses,
during which the earth, thrown like a screen across the
solar disc, allows the greater part to be seen.*’

“Why is there no total eclipse?” asked Nicholl. “Is it
because the cone of shade thrown bv the earth does not
extend beyond the moop?”

“Ves, if you do not take into account the refraction
produced by the earth’s atmosphere, not if you do take that
refraction into account. Thus, let de/ia be the horizontal
parallax and /> the apparent semidiameier-”

“Ouf!” said Michel, “half of v zero square! Do speak the
vulgar tongue, man of algebra!”

“Well, then, in popular language,” answered Barbicane,
“the mean distance between the moon and the e;irth being
sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of shadow, bv
dint of refraction, is reduced to less than forn--two radii.
It follows, therefore, that during the eclipses the moon is
beyond the cone of pure shade, and the sun sends it not only
rays from its edges, but also rays from its centre.”

“Then,” said Michel in a grumbling tone, “whv is there
any eclipse when there ought to be none?”

“Solely because the solar rays are weakened by the
refraction, and the atmosphere which ihev traverse extin¬
guishes the greater part of them.”

“That reason satisfies me,” answered Michel; “besides,
we shall see for ourselves when we get there. Kow, Barbi-

c,inc, do you believe that the moon is an ancient comet?”

“Wliat an idea!”

^ es, replied Alichel, with amiable conceit, “I have a
few ideas of that kind.”

“But that idea does not originate with Michel,” answered
Nicholl.

“'I'iien I am only a plagiarist.”

“VC ithout doubt,” answered Nicholl. “According to the
lesiimony ot the ancients, the Arcadians pretended that their
ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her
satellite. Starting Irom this fact, certain thinkers consider

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

the moon was a comet which its orbit one day brought near
enough to the earth to be retained by terrestrial attraction.”

“And what truth is there in that hypothesis?” asked
Michel.

“None,” answered Barbicane, “and the proof is that the
moon has not kept a trace of the gaseous envelope that always
accompanies comets.”

“But,” said Nicholl, “might not the moon, before
becoming the earth’s satellite, have passed near enough to
the sun to leave all her gaseous substances by evaporation?”

“It might, friend Nicholl, but it is not probable.”

“Why?”

“Because—because, I really don’t know.”

“Ah, what hundreds of volumes we might fill with what
we don’t know!” exclaimed Michel. “But I say,” he con¬
tinued, “what time is it?”

“Three o’clock,” answered Nicholl.

“How the time goes,” said Michel, “in the conversation
of thinkers like us I I feel that I am becoming a well of
knowledge!”

So saying, Michel climbed to the roof of the projectile,
“in order better to observe the moon,” he pretended. In the
meanwhile his companions watched the vault of space
through the lower port-light. There was nothing fresh to
report.

When Michel Ardan came down again he approached the
lateral port-light, and suddenly uttered an exclamation of
surprise.

“What is the matter now?” asked Barbicane.

The president approached the glass and saw a sort of
flattened sack floating outside at some yards’ distance from
the projectile. This object seemed motionless like the
projectile.

“Whatever can that machine be?” said Michel Ardan.
“Is it one of the corpuscles of space which our projectile
holds in its field of attraction, and which will accompany it
as far as the moon?”

6i

ROUND THE MOON

“Vi'hat I am astonished at,” answered NichoU, “is that
the specific weight of this body, which is certainly superior
to that of the projectile, allows it to maintain itself so
rigorously on its level.”

“NichoU,” said Barbicane, after a moment’s reflection,
“I do not know what that object is, but I know perfectly
whv it keeps on a level with the projectile.”

“'XTiy, pray?”

“Because we are floating in the void where bodies fall or
move—which is the same thing—with equal speed whatever
their weight or form may be. It is the air which, by its
resistance, creates differences in weight. WTien you create
a void in a rube, the objects you throw down it, either lead or
feathers, fall with the same speed. Here in space you have the
same cause and the same effect.”

“True,” said NichoU, “and all we throw out of the
projectile wUl accompany us to the moon.”

“Ah! what fools we are!” cried Alichel,

“>X’hy this qualification?” asked Barbicane.

“Because we ought to have fiUed the projectile with use¬
ful objects, books, instruments, tools, etc. We could have
throw’n them all out, and they would aU have followed in
our wake! But, now I think of it, why can’t we lake a walk
outside? W hy can’t we go into space through the port-light ?
W'hat deUght it would be to be thus suspended in ether,
more favoured even than birds that are forced to flap their
wings to sustain them!”

“Agreed,” said Barbicane, “but how are we to breathe?”

“Confound the air!”

“But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being inferior
to that of the projectile, you would soon remain behind.”

“Then it is a vicious circle.”

“All that is most vicious.”

“And we must remain imprisoned in our vehicle.”

“Yes, we must.”

“Ah!” cried Michel in a formidable voice.

“What is the matter with vou?” asked NichoU.

62

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

“I know, I guess what this pretended asteroid is! It is not
a broken piece of planet!**

“What is it, then?’* asked NichoU.

“It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana’s husband!**

In fact, this deformed objea, now quite unrecognizable,
was the body of Satellite!

63

CHAPTER VII

A MOMENT OF MADNESS

Thus a curious but logical phenomenon took place under
these singular conditions. Ever>' object thrown out of the
projectile would follow the same path and only stop when it
did. That furnished a text for conversation which the whole
evening could not exhaust. The emotion of the three
travellers increased as they approached the end of their
journey. They expected unforeseen incidents, fresh pheno¬
mena—in fact nothing would have astonished them under
present circumstances. Their excited imagination out¬
distanced the projectile, the speed of which diminished
notably without their feeling it. But the moon grew larger
before their eyes, and they thought they had only to stretch
out their hands to touch it.

The next day, the 5th of December, they were all wide
awake at 5 a.m. That day was to be the last of their journey
if the calculations were exact. That same evening, at mid¬
night, within eighteen hours, at the precise moment of full
moon, they would reach her brilliant disc. The next midnight
would bring them to the goal of their journey, the most ex¬
traordinary one of ancient or modem times. At early dawn,
through the windows made silvery'with her rays, they saluted
the Queen of Night with a confident and joyful hurrah.

TTie moon was sailing majestically across the starry
firmament. A few more degrees and she would reach that
precise point in space where the projectile was to meet her.
According to his own observations, Barbicane thought that
he should accost her in her northern hemisphere, where
vast plains extend and mountains are rare—a favourable
circumstance if the lunar atmosphere was, according to
expert opinion, stored up in deep places only.

64

A MOMENT OF MADNESS

“Besides,” observed Michel Ardan, “a plain is more
suitable for landing upon than a mountain. A Selenite who
landed in Europe on the summit of Mont Blanc, or in Asia
on a peak of the Himalayas, would not be precisely at his
destination!”

“What is more,” added Nicholl, “on a plain the projectile
will remain motionless after it has touched the ground,
whilst it would roll down a hill like an avalanche, and as we
are not squirrels we should not come out safe and sound.
Therefore all is for the best.”

In fact, the success of the audacious enterprise no longer
appeared doubtful. Still one reflection occupied Barbicane;
but not wishing to make his two companions uneasy, he
kept silent about it.

The direction of the projectile towards the nonhem
hemisphere proved that its trajectory had been slightly
modified. TTte aim, mathematically calculated, ought to
have sent it into the very centre of the lunar disc. If it did
not arrive there it would be because it had deviated. What
had caused it? Barbicane could not imagine nor determine
the imponance of this deviation, for there was no datum to
go upon. He hoped, however, that the only result would be
to take them towards the upper edge of the moon, a more
suitable region for landing.

Barbicane, therefore, without saying anything to his
friends, contented himself with frequently observing the
moon, trying to see if the direction of the projectile would
not change. For the situation would have been so terrible
had the projeaile, missing its aim, been dragged beyond
the lunar disc and fallen into interplanetary space.

At that moment the moon, instead of appearing flat like
a disc, already showed her convexity. If the sun’s rays had
reached her obliquely the shadow then thrown would have
made the high mountains stand out. They could have
seen the gaping craters and the capricious furrows that
cut up the immense plains. But all relief was levelled in
the intense brilliancy. Those large spots that give the ap-
R.M.—E 65

ROUND THE MOON

pearance of a human face to the moon were scarcely
distinguishable.

“It may be a face,” said Michel Ardan, “but I am sorry
for the amiable sister of Apollo, her face is so freckled!”

In the meantime the travellers so near their goal cease¬
lessly \\aiched this new world. TTheir imagination made
them take walks over these unknown countries. They
climbed the elevated peaks. They descended to the bottom
of the large amphitheatres. Here and there they thought
they saw vast seas scarcely kept together under an atmos¬
phere so rarefied, and streams of water that poured them
their tribute from the mountains. Leaning over the abyss
they hoped to catch the noise of this orb for ever mute in the
solitudes of the void.

This last day left them the liveliest remembrances. They
noted down the smallest details. A vague uneasiness took
possession of them as they approached their goal. This
uneasiness would have been doubled if they had known how
slight their speed was. It appeared quite insufficient to take
.hem to the end of their journey. This was because the
projectile scarcely “weighed” an>nhing. Its weight con¬
stantly decreased, and would be entirely annihilated on that
line where the lunar and terrestrial attractions neutralize
each other, causing surprising effects.

Nevertheless, in spite of his preoccupations, Michel
.•\rdan did not forget to prepare the morning meal with his
habitual punctualit>-. They ate heartily. Nothing was more
excellent than their broth liquefied by the heat of the gas.
Nothing better than these preserved meats. A few glasses of
good French wine crowned the meal, and caused Michel
Ardan to remark that the lunar vines, warmed by this ardent
ought to distil the most generous wines—that is, if they
existed. .-Xny way, the far-seeing Frenchman had taken care
not to forget in his collection some precious cuttings of the
Medoc and Cote d'Or.

The Reiset and Regnault apparatus always worked with
extreme precision. The air was kept in a state of perfect

66

A MOMENT OF MADNESS

purity. Not a particle of carbonic acid resisted the potass,
and as to the oxygen, that, as Captain NichoU said, was of
“first quality.” The small amount of humidity in the pro¬
jectile mixed with this air and tempered its dryness.

But in order to work eflRciently this apparatus had to be
kept going regularly. Each morning Michel inspected the
escape regulators, tried the laps, and fixed by the pyrometer
the heat of the gas. All had gone well so far, and the
travellers, imitating the worthy J. T. Masion, began to get
so stout that they would not be recognizable if their
imprisonment lasted several months. They behaved like
chickens in a cage—they fanened.

Looking through the pon-lights Barbicane saw the spectre
of the dog, and the different objects thrown out of the
projectile, which obstinately accompamed it. Diana howled
lam entably when she perceived the remains of Satellite. All
the things seemed as motionless as if they had rested upon
solid ground.

“Do you know, my friends,” said Michel Ardan, that if
one of us had succumbed to the recoU shock at departure we
should have been much embarrassed as to how to get rid
of him? You see, the accusing corpse would have followed

us in space like remorse!”

“That would have been sad,” said NichoU.

“Ah!” continued Michel, “what I regret is our not being
able to take a walk outside. What deUght it would be to
float in this radiant ether, to bathe in these pure rays of the
sun I If Barbicane had only thought of furnishing us with
diving-dresses and air-pumps I should have ventured out¬
side, and have assumed the attitude of a flying-horse on the
summit of the projectile.”

“Ah, old feUowl” answered Barbicane, “you would not
have stayed there long in spite of your diving-dress, you
would have burst by the expansion of air inside you, or rather
like a balloon that goes up too high. So regret nothing, and do
not forget this: whUe we are moving in the void you must do
without any sentimental promenade out of the projectile.

ROUND THE MOON

Michel Ardan allowed himself to be convi^cd in a
certain measure. He agreed that the thing was difficult, but
not “impossible’^ that was a word he never uttered.

The conversation passed from this subject to ^offier,
and never languished an instant. It seemed to the th^r^
friends that under these conditions ideas came into their

lieads like leaves in the first warm days of sprmg.

Amidst the questions and answers that crossed each other
during this morning, NichoU asked one that did not get an
immediate answer.

“I say,” said he, “it is all very well to go to the moon,

but how shall we get back again?” . ^ r, l-

“WTiat do you mean by that, NichoU?’ asked Barbicane

gravely.

“It seems to me very inopportune to ask about getting
away from a country before you get to it,” added Michel.

“I don’t ask that question because I want to draw back,
but I repeat my question, and ask, ‘How shall we get

back?’” _

“I have not the least idea,” answered Barbicane,

“And as for me,” said Michel, “if I had known how to

come back I should not have gone.”

“Tliat is what you call answering,” cried NichoU.

“I approve of Michel’s words, and add that the question
has no actual interest. VC'e will think about that later on,
when we want to return. Though the Columbiad wiU not

be there, the projectile will.”

“Much good that will be, a buUet without a pm!”

“A gun can be made, and so can powder! Neither metal,
saltpetre, nor coal can be wanting in the bowels of the moon.
Besides, in order to return you have only the lunar anraction
to conquer, and you will only have 8,000 leagues to go so as
to fall on the terrestrial globe by the simple laws of weight.

“That is enough,” said Michel, gening animated.
us hear no more about returning. As to communicating with
our ancient colleagues upon earth, that wiU not be difficult.
“How are we to do that, pray?”

68

A MOMENT OF MADNESS

“By means of meteors hurled by the lunar volcanoes/’

“A good idea, Michel,” answered Barbicane. “Laplace
has calculated that a force five times superior to that of our
cannons would suffice to send a meteor from the moon to
the earth. Now there is no volcano that has not a superior
force of propulsion.”

“Hurrah I cried Michel. “Meteors will be convenient
postmen and will not cost anything! And how we shall
laugh at the postal service! But now I think-”

“What do you think?”

“A superb idea! Why did we not fasten a telegraph wire
to our projectile? We could have exchanged telegrams with
the eanhl”

“And the weight of a wire 86,000 leagues long,” answered
NichoU, “does that go for nothing?”

“Yes, for nothing! We should have trebled the charge of
the Columbiad! We could have made it four times—five
times—greater!” cried Michel, whose voice became more
and more violent.

“There is a slight objection to make to your project,”
answered Barbicane. “It is that during the movement of
rotation of the globe our wire would have been rolled round
it like a chain round a windlass, and it would inevitably have
dragged us down to the earth again.”

“By the thirty-nine stars of the Union!” said Michel,
“I have nothing but impracticable ideas to-day—ideas
worthy of J. T. Maston! But now I think of it, if we do not
return to earth J. T. Maston will certainly come to us!”

“Yes! he will come,” replied Barbicane; “he is a worthy
and courageous comrade. Besides, what could be easier?
Is not the Columbiad still lying in Floridian soil? Will not
the moon again pass the zenith of Florida? In another
eighteen years will she not occupy exactly the same place
that she occupies to-day?”

“Yes,” repeated Michel—“yes, Maston will come, and
with him our friends Elphinstone, Blomsberry, and all the
members of the Gun Club, and they will be welcome! Later

69

ROUND THE MOON

on trains of projectiles will be established between the earth
and the moon! Hurrah for J. T. Maston!’*

It is probable that if the Honourable J. T. Maston did
not hear the hurrahs uttered in his honour his ears tingled
at least. VCTiat was he doing then? He was no doubt
stationed in the Rocky Mountains at Long’s Peak, trying to
discover the invisible body gravitating in space. If he was
thinking of his dear companions it must be acknowledged

that they were thinking of him.

But whence came the animation that grew visibly greater
in the inhabitants of the projectile? Their sobriety could not
be questioned. Must this strange erethismus of the brain
be attributed to the e.xceptional circumstances of the time,
to that proximity of the Queen of Night from which a few
hours only separated them, or to some secret influence of the
moon acting on their nervous system? Their faces became
as red as if exposed to the heat of a furnace; their respiration
became more active, and their lungs played like forge-
bellows; their eves shone with extraordinary' flame, and
their voices became formidably loud, their words escaped
like a champagne-cork driven forth by carbonic acid gas,
their gestures became disquieting, they wanted so much
room to perform them in. And, strange to say, they in no
wise perceived this excessive tension of the mind.

“Now,” said Nicholl in a sharp tone—“now that I do
not know whether we shall come back from the moon, I
will know what we are going there for!”

“W'hat we are going there for!” answered Barbicane,
stamping as if he were in a fencing-room; “I don’t
know.”

“You don’t know!” cried Michel with a shout that
provoked a sonorous echo in the projectile.

“No, I have not the least idea!” answered Barbicane,
shouting in unison with his questioner.

“W'ell, then, I know,” answered Michel.

“Spciik, then,” said Nicholl, who could no longer restrain
the angry tones of his voice.

70

A MOMENT OF MADNESS

"I shall speak if it suits mcl” cried Aiichel

71

ROUND THE MOON

“I shall speak if it suits me!’^ cried Alichel, violently
seizing his companion’s arm.

“It must suit you!” said Barbicane, with eyes on fire and
threatening hands. “It was you who drew us into this
terrible journey, and we wish to know why!”

“Yes,” said the captain, “if I don’t know where I am
going, I will know why I am going.”

“VC'hy?” cried Michel, jumping a yard high—“why? To
take possession of the moon in the name of the United
Slates! To add a fortieth State to the Union! To colonize
the lunar regions, to cultivate them, people them, to take
them all the wonders of art, science, and industrxM I'o
civilize the Seleniies, unless they are more civilized than we
are, and to make them into a republic if they have not
already done it for themselves!”

“If there are any Seleniies!” answered Nicholl, who under
the force of this inexplicable intoxication became very'
contradiaory.

“'X'ho says there are no Seleniies ?” cried .Michel in a
threatening tone.

“I do!” shouted Nicholl.

“Captain,” said Michel, “do not repeat that insult or I
will knock your teeth down your throat!”

'Hie two adversaries were about to rush upon one another,
and this incoherent discussion was threatening to degenerate
into a battle, when Barbicane interfered.

“Stop, unhappy men,” said he, putting his two com¬
panions back to back, “if there are no Selenites, we will do
without them!”

“Yes!” exclaimed Michel, who did not care more about
them than that. “We have nothing to do with the Seleniies!
Bother the Selenites!”

“The empire of the moon shall be ours,” said Nicholl.
■‘Let us found a Republic of three!”

“I shall be the Congress,” cried Michel.

‘‘And I the Senate,” answered Nicholl.

“And Barbicane the President,” shouted Alichel.

"•2

A MOMENT OP MADNESS

‘‘No President elected by the nation!’* answered Barbi-
cane.

“Well, then, a President elected by the Congress,**
exclaimed Michel; “and as I am the Congress I elect you
unanimously.**

“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah for President Barbicane!*’
exclaimed NichoU.

“Hip>—hip—hip! hurrah!** screamed Michel Ardan.

Then the President and Senate struck up “Yankee
Doodle** as loudly as they could, whilst the Congress
shouted the virile “Marseillaise.**

Then began a frantic dance with maniacal gestures, mad
stamping, and somersaults of boneless clowns. Diana took
part in the dance, howling too, and jumped to the very roof
of the projectile. An inexplicable flapping of wings and cock¬
crows of singular sonority were heard. Five or six fowls
flew about striking the walls like mad bats.

^ Then the three travelling companions, whose lungs were
disorganized under some incomprehensible influence, more
than intoxicated, burnt by the air that had set their breathing

apparatus on fire, fell motionless upon the bottom of the
projectile.

73

CHAPTER VIII

AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED

AND FOURTEEN LEAGUES

What had happened? What was the cause of that singular
madness, the consequences of which might prove so
disastrous? Simply carelessness on Aiichel’s part, which
Nicholl was able to remedy in time.

After a swoon, which lasted a few minutes, the captain,
who was the first to regain consciousness, soon collected his
thoughts.

Although he had breakfasted two hours before, he began
to feel as hungry’ as if he had not tasted food for several days.
His whole being, his brain and stomach, were excited to the
highest point.

He rose, therefore, and demanded some action from
Michel, who was still unconscious, and did not answer.
KichoU, therefore, proceeded to prepare some cups of
tea.

Imagine his surprise when he struck a match to see the
sulphur burn with extraordinar>* and almost unbearable
brilliancy! From the jet of gas he lighted rose a flame equal
to floods of electric light.

A revelation took place in NichoU’s mind. This intensity
of light, the physiological disturbance in himself, the extra
excitement of all his moral and sensitive faculties—he
understood it all.

“The oxygen!” he exclaimed.

And leaning over the air-apparatus, he saw that the tap
was giving out a flood of colourless and odourless gas,
eminently vital, but which in a pure state produces the
gravest disorders. Through carelessness Michel had left the
tap full on.

74

AT 78,114 LEAGUES

NichoU made haste to turn off this flow of oxygen with
which the atmosphere was saturated, and which would have
caused the death of the travellers, not by suffocation, but by
combustion.

An hour afterwards the air was relieved, and gave normal
play to the lungs. By degrees the three friends recovered
from their intoxication; but they were obliged to recover
from their oxygen like a drunkard from his wine.

When Michel knew his share of responsibility in this
incident he did not appear in the least disconcerted. This
unexpected intoxication broke the monotony of the
journey. Many foolish things had been said under its
influence, but they had been forgonen as soon as said.

“Then,** added the merry Frenchman, “I am not sorry

for having experienced the effect of this capiious gas. Do

you know, my friends, that there might be a curious

establishment set up with oxygen-rooms, where people

whose constitutions are weak might live a more active life

during a few hours at least? Suppose we had meetings where

the air could be saturated with this heroic fluid, theatres

where the managers would send it out in strong doses, what

passion there would be in the souls of actors and spectators,

what fire and what enthusiasm! And if, instead of a simple

ass^bly, a whole nation could be saturated with it, what

activity, what a supplement of life it would receive! Of an

exhausted nation it perhaps would make a great and strong

nation, and I know more than one state in old Europe that

ought to put itself under the oxygen regime in the interest
of its health.**

Alichel spoke with as much animation as if the tap were

still full on. But with one sentence Barbicane damped his
enthusiasm.

“All that is very well, friend Michel,** he said, “but now
perhaps you will tell us where those fowls that joined in our
concert came from.**

“Those fowls?*’

“Yes.**

75

ROUND THE MOON

In fact, half a dozen hens and a superb cock were flying
hither and thither.

“Ah, the stupids!” cried .Michel. “It was the ox>'gen that
put them in revolt.”

“But what are you going to do with those fowls?” asked
Barbicane.

“Acclimatize them on the moon of course! For the sake
of a joke, my worthy president; simply a joke that has
unhappily come to nothing! I wanted to let them out on the
lunar continent without telling you! How astounded you
would have been to see these terrestrial poultry pecking the
fields of the moon!”

“Ah,gamj>i, you eternal boy!” answered Barbicane, “you
don’t want oxygen to make you out of your senses! You
are always what we were under the influence of this gas!
You are always insane!”

“Ah! how do we know we were not wiser then?” replied
Michel Ardan.

After this philosophical reflection the three friends
repaired the disorder in the projectile. Cock and hens were
put back in their cage. But as they were doing this Barbicane
and his two companions distinaly perceived a fresh
phenomenon.

Since the moment they had left the earth their own weight,
that of the projectile and the objects it contained, had suffer¬
ed progressive diminution. Though they could not have any
experience of this in the projeaile, a moment must come
when the eflect upon themselves and the tools and instru¬
ments they used would be felt.

Of course scales would not have indicated this loss of
weight, for the weights used would have lost precisely
as much as the object itself; but a spring weighing-machine,
the tension of which is independent of attraction, would
have given the exact valuation of this loss.

It is well known that attraction, or weight, is in proportion
to the mass, and in inverse proportion to the square of
distances. Hence this consec^uence. If the earth had been

7b

AT 78,114 LEAGUES

alone in space, if the other heavenly bodies were to be
suddenly annihilated, the projectile, according to Newton’s
law, would have weighed less according to its distance from
the earth, but without ever losing its weight entirely, for the
terrestrial attraction would always have made itself felt, no
matter at what distance.

But in the case with which we are dealing, a moment must
come when the projectile would not be at all under the law of
gravitation, after allowing for the other celestial bodies,
whose effect could not be set down as zero.

^ u trajectory of the projectile was between the

earth and the moon. As it went farther away from the earth
gravitational attraction would be diminished in inverse
proportion to the square of distances, but the lunar attrac¬
tion would be augmented in the same proportion. A point
must, therefore, be reached where these two attractions
would neutralize each other, and the projectile would have
no weight at all. If the masses of the moon and earth were
xhis pomt would have been reached at an equal
d^ce between the two bodies. But by taking ^eir
^erence of mass mto account it was easy to calculate that
mis pomt wouM be situated at * of the journey, or at
7®>ii4 leagues from the earth.

^ velocity or movement in

etemaUy motionless, being equaUy

heavenly bodies, and nothing thawing
It more towards one than the other.

rh^i. of impulsion had been exactly calculated

*e proiectUe ought to reach that point with L

ha^g lost ^weight Uke the objects it contained.

sel^ would happen then? Three theories presented them-

Either the projectile would have kept some velocity and

Or velocity sufficient to reach the neutral point being

77

ROUND THE MOON

wanting, it would fall back on the earth by virtue of the
excess of terrestrial attraction over lunar attraction.

Or lastly, endowed with sufficient velocity to reach the
neutral point, but insufficient to pass it, it would remain
eternally suspended in the same place, like the pretended
coffin of Mahomet, between the zenith and nadir.

Such was the situation, and Barbicane clearly explained
the consequences to his travelling compamons. How were
they to know when they had reached this neutral point,
situated at 78,114 leagues from the earth, at the precise
moment when neither they nor the objects contained in the
projectile should be in any way subject to the laws of weight?

Until now the travellers, though they had remarked that
this action diminished little by little, had not yet perceived
its total absence. But that day, about 11 a.m., Nicholl having
let a tumbler escape from his hand, instead of falling, it

remained suspended in the air.

**Ah!” cried Michel Ardan, “this is a little amusing

chemistry!”

And immediately different objects, weapons, bottles, etc.,
left to themselves, hung suspended as if by miracle. Diana,
too, lifted up by Michel into space, reproduced, but without
trickery, the marv’cUous suspensions effected by Roben
Houdin and Maskelyne and Cook.

The three adventurous companions, surprised and
stupefied in spite of their scientific reasoning, felt weight
go out of their bodies. When they stretched out their arms
they felt no inclination to drop them. Their heads wobbled
on their shoulders. Their feet no longer kept at the bottom
of the projectile. They were like staggering drunkards.
Imagination has created men deprived of their reflection,
others deprived of their shadows! But here reality, by the
neutrality of active forces, made men in whom notliing had
any weight, and who weighed nothing themselves.

Suddenly Michel, making a slight spring, left the floor
and remained suspended in the air like the good monk in
Murillo’s Ctasine des Anges. His two friends joined him in

■7S

I

AT 78,114 LEAGUES

an instant, and all three, in the centre of the projectUe,
looked like figures in a miraculous ascension.

“Is it believable? Is it likely? Is it possible?” cried
Michel. “No. And yet it exists! Ah! if Raphael could have
seen us like this what an Assumption he could have put
upon canvas!”

“The Assumption cannot last,” answered Barbicane. “If
the projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar anraction
will draw us to the moon.”

“Then our feet will rest upon the roof of the projectile,”
answered Michel.

“No,” said Barbicane, “because the centre of gravity in
the projeaile is very low, and it will turn over gradually.”

“Then all our things will be turned upside down for
certain!”

“Do not alarm yourself, Michel,” answered NichoU.
“There is nothing of the kind to be feared. Not an object will
move; the projectile will turn insensibly.”

“In fact,” resumed Barbicane, “when it has cleared the
point of equal attraction, its bonom, relatively heavier, will
drag it perpendicularly down to the moon. But in order that
such a phenomenon should take place we must pass the
neutral line.”

“Passing the neutral line!” cried Michel. “Then let us
do like the sailors who pass the equator—let us water our
passage!”

A slight side movement took Michel to the padded wall.
Thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them “in space”
before his companions, and merrily touching glasses, they
saluted the line.

This influence of the attractions lasted scarcely an hour.
The travellers saw themselves insensibly lowered towards the
bottom, and Barbicane thought he remarked that the
conical end of the projectile deviated slightly from the
normal direction towards the moon. By an inverse movement
the bottom side approached it. Lunar attraction was there¬
fore gaining over terrestrial attraaion. The fall towards the

79

ROUND THE MOON

moon began, insensibly as yet; it could only be that of a
milUmetre (-03937 inch) and a third in the first second. But
the attractive force would gradually increase, the fall would
be more accentuated, the projectile, dragged down by its
bonom side, would present its cone to the earth, and would
fall with increasing velocity until it reached the moon’?
surface. Now nothing could prevent the success of the
enterprise, and Nicholl and Michel Ardan shared Barbi-

cane’s joy.

Then they chatted about all the phenomena that had
astounded them one after another, especially about the
neutralization of the laws of weight. Michel Ardan, always
full of enthusiasm, wished to deduce consequences which
were onlv pure imagination.

“Ah! my worthy friends,” he cried, “what progress we
should make could we but get rid upon eanh of this weight,
this chain that rivets us to her! It would be the prisoner
restored to liberty! There would be no more weariness
either in arms or legs. And if it is true that, in order to fl\
upon the surface of the earth, to sustain yourself in the air
by a simple action of the muscles, it would take a force
150 times superior to that we possess, a simple acT of will,
a caprice, would transport us into space, and attraction

would not exist.”

“In fact,” said Nicholl, laughing, “if they succeeded in
suppressing gravitation, like pain is suppressed by ana^s-
ihesia, it would change the face of modern society!”

“Ves,” cried Michel, full of his subject, “let us destroy
weight and have no more burdens! No more cranes, screw-
jacks, windlasses, cranks, or other machines will be wanted.”

“Well said,” replied Barbicane; “but if nothing had any
weight nothing would keep in its place, not even the hat
on your head, worthy Michel; nor your house, the stones of
which only adhere by their weight! Not even ships, whose
stability upon the water is only a consequence of weight.
Not even the ocean, whose waves would no longer be held
in equilibrium by terrestrial attraction. Lastly, not even the

80

AT 78,114 LEAGUES

atmosphere, the molecules of which, being no longer held
together, would disperse into space!”

T^at is a pity,” replied Michel. “There is nothing like
positive people for recalling you brutally to reality!”

“Nevertheless, console yourself, Michel,” resumed Bar-
bic^e, “for if no star could exist from which the laws of
weight were banished, you are at least going to pay a visit
where gravity is much less than upon earth.”

“The moon?”

Yes, the moon, on the surface of which objects weigh six
times less than upon the surface of the earth, a phenomenon
very easy to demonstrate.”

perceive it?” asked Michel.

Evidently for 400 lbs. only weigh 66 lbs. on the surface
ot the moon.”

“Will not our muscular strength be diminished?”

aKu, all. Instead of jumping one yard you will be
aoie to nse six.

Hercules in the moon,” cried Michel.
. . r^hed NichoU, “and the more so because if the

eloS'th^ n ** “ proportion to the bulk of their

globe they will be hardly a foot high ”

‘LiUipudansI” replied Michel. “Then I am going to plav

‘•oX“virit''Si'eTn?e G^Uiver,” answered Barbicane,

my visit the inferior plants, such as Mercury. Venus or

^rs, whose bulk is rather less than that of tf^ earth. But
NepmiJ^^^foJVh Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus,

And in the sun?”

of th"*nh“hs'i‘n?®‘’ 'han that

thousand “ thirteen hundred and twenty-four

seven tim^ greater, and gravitation there is twenty-
seven greater than upon the surface of our glo^e.

81

ROUND THE MOON

Every proponion kept, the inhabitants ought on an average

to be two hundred feet high.”

“The devil!” exclaimed Michel. “I should only be a

pigmy!”

“Gulliver amongst the giants,” said NichoU.

“Just so,” answ’ered Barbicane.

“It would not have been a bad thing to carry some

weapons to defend oneself with.”

“Good,” replied Barbicane; “your bullets would have no
effect on the sun, and they would fall to the ground in a few
minutes.”

“Tliat’s saying a great deal!”

“It is a fact,” answ'ered Barbicane. “Gravitation is so
great on that enormous planet that an object weighing 70 lbs.
on the earth would weigh 1,930 lbs. on the surface of the
sun. Your hat would weigh 20 lbs.! your cigar ^ lb. I Lastly,
if you fell on the solar continent your weight would be so
gr^t—about 5,000 lbs.—that you could not get up again.”

“The devil!” said Michel, “I should have to carry about
a portable crane! Well, my friends, let us be content with the
moon for today. There, at least, we shall cut a great figure!
I^ter on we shall see if we will go to the sun, where you
can’t drink without a crane to lift the glass to your mouth.”

82

CHAPTER IX

THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEVIATION

Barbicane had no fears about the issue of the journey, at
least not about the projectile’s force of impulsion. Its own
speed would carry it beyond the neutral line. Therefore it
would not return to the earth nor remain motionless at the
point of attraction. One hypothesis only remained to be
realized, the arrival of the projectile at its goal under the
action of lunar attraction.

In reality it was a fall of 8,296 leagues upon a planet,
it is true, where the gravity is six times less than upon the
earth. Nevertheless it would be a terrible fall, and one against
which all precautions ought to be taken without delay.

The precautions were of two sorts j some were for the
purpose of deadening the shock at the moment the projectile
would touch the moon’s surface; others were to retard the
shock.

In order to deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane
was no longer able to employ the means diat had so usefully
weakened the shock at departure—that is to say, the water
used as a spring and the movable partitions. The partitions
still existed, but water was wanting, for they could not use
the reserve for this purpose—that would be precious in case
there should be none on the moon.

Besides, this reserve would not have been sufficient for a
spring. The layer of water store in the projectile at their
departure, and on which lay the waterproof disc, occupied
no less than three feet in depth, and spread over a surface of
not less than fifty-four feet square. Now the receptacles did
not contain the fifth part of that. They were, therefore,
obliged to give up this means of deadening the shock.

Fortunately Barbicane, not content with employing water,

83

ROUND THE MOON

had furnished the movable disc with strong spring buffers,
destined to lessen the shock against the bottom, after
breaking the horizontal partitions. These buffers were still
in existence; they had only to be fitted and the movable disc
put in its place. All these pieces, easy to handle, as they
weighed scarcely anything, could be rapidly mounted.

This was done. The different pieces were adjusted without
difficulty. It was only a maner of bolts and screws. There
were plenr>’ of tools. The disc was soon fixed on its steel
buffers like a table on its legs. One inconvenience resulted
from this arrangement. The lower port-hole was covered,
and it would be impossible for the travellers to observe the
moon through that opening whilst they were descending
perpendicularly upon her. But they were obliged to give it
up. Besides, through the lateral openings they could still
perceive the vast lunar regions, like the earth is seen from the
car of a balloon.

Barbicane made fresh observations on the inclination of
the projectile, but to his great ve.\ation it had not turned
sufficientlv for a fall; it appeared to be describing a cui-ve
parallel with the lunar disc. Tlte Queen of Night was
shining splendidly in space, whilst opposite the orb of day
uas setting her on fire with his rays.

This situation soon became an an.xious one.

‘‘Shall we get there?** said Nicholl.

“We must act as though we should,** answered Barbicane.

“You are faint-hearted fellows,** replied Michel Ardan.
“We shall get there, and quicker than we want.’*

'Phis answer recalled Barbicane to the work in hand and
he occupied himself with placing the contrivances designed
to retard the fall.

It should be appreciated that, at the meeting held in
Tampa Town, Florida, Captain Nicholl appeared as Barbi-
canc’s enemy, and Michel Ardan's adversary'. >XTien Captain
Nicholl said that the projectile would be broken like glass,
Michel answered that he would retard the fall by means of
fuses propcrlv arranged.

R4

THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEVIATION

In fact, powerful fuses, resting upon the bonom, and
being fired outside, might, by producing a recoil action, les¬
sen the speed of the projectile. These fuses were to bum in
the void, it is true, but oxygen would not fail them, for they
would furnish that themselves like the lunar volcanoes, the
deflagration of which has never been prevented by the want
of atmosphere around the moon.

Barbicane had therefore provided himself with fireworks
shut up in little carmons of bored steel, which could be
screwed on to the bottom of the projectile. Inside these
cannons were level with the bottom; outside they went half
a foot beyond it. There were twenty of them. All the effect
took place outside. The exploding mixture had been already
rammed into each gun. All they had to do, therefore, was to
take up the metallic buffers fixed in the base, and to put
these cannons in their place, where they fitted exactly.

This fresh work was ended about 3 p.m., and all pre¬
cautions taken they had now nothing to do but to wait.

In the meantime the projectile visibly drew nearer the
moon. It was, therefore, submitted in some proportion to its
influence; but its own velocity also inclined it in an oblique
line. Perhaps the result of these two influences would be a
line that would become a tangent. But it was certain that the
projectile was not falling normally upon the surface of the
moon, for its base, by reason of its weight, ought to have
been turned towards her.

Barbicane's anxiety was increased on seeing that his
projectile resisted the influence of gravitation. It was the
unknown that was before him—the unknown of the inter¬
stellar regions. He, the expert, believed that he had foreseen
the only three hypotheses that were possible—the return to
the earth, the fall upon the moon, or stagnation upon the
neutral line! And here a fourth hypothesis, full of all the
terrors of the infinite, cropped up. To face it without
flinching took a resolute man like Barbicane, a phlegmatic
being like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurer like Michel
Ardan.

«5

ROUND THE MOON

Con%-ersation was started on this subject. Other men
would have considered the question from a practical point
of view. They would have wondered where the projectile
would take them to. Not they, however. They sought the
cause that liad produced this effect.

“So we are off the line,” said A\ichel. “But how is that?”

“I am very much afraid,” answered Nicholl, “that not¬
withstanding all the precautions that were taken the
Columbiad was not aimed correctly. The slightest error
would suffice to throw us off course.”

“Then the cannon was pointed badly?” said Michel.

“I do not think so,” answered Barbicane. “The cannon
was rigorously perpendicular, and its direction towards the
zenith of the place was incontestable. 'Fhe moon passing
the zenith, we ought to have reached her at the full. There
is another reason, but it escapes me.”

“Perhaps we have arrived too late,” suggested Nicholl.

“Too late?” said Barbicane.

“Yes,” resumed Nicholl. “The notice from the Cambridge
Observatory said that the transit ought to be accomplished
in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutes and twenty seconds.
That means that before that time the moon would not have
reached the point indicated, and after she would have
passed it.”

“Agreed,” amswered Barbicane. “But we started on the
1st of December at iih. 13m. 25s. p.m., and we ought to
arrive at midnight on the 5th, precisely as the moon is full.
Now this is the 5ih of December. It is half-past three, and
eight hours and a half ought to be sufficient to take us to our
goiil. W'hy are we not going towards it?”

“Perhaps the velocity was greater than it ought to have
been,” answered Nicholl, “for we know now that the initial
velocity was greater than it was supposed to be.”

“No! a hundred times no!” replied Barbicane. “An excess
of velocity, supposing the direction of the projectile to have
been correct, would not have prevented us reaching the

moon. No! There has been a deviation. \X'c have debated'”

86

THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEVIATION

“Through whom? through whai?” asked NichoU.

“I cannot tell,” answered Barbicane.

“Well, Barbicane,” then said Michel, “should you like
to know what I think about why we have -deviated?”

“Say what you think.”

“I would not give half a dollar to know! We have deviated,
that is a fact. It does not maner much where we are go^.
We shall soon find out. As we are being carried along into
space we shall end by falling into some centre of attraction
or another.”

Barbicane could not be contented with this indifference of
Michel Ardan’s. Not that he was anxious about the future.
But what he wanted to know, at any price, was why his
projectile had deviated.

In the meantime the projectile kept on its course sideways
to the moon, and the objects thrown out along with it.
Barbicane could even prove by the landmarks upon the
moon, which was only at 2,000 leagues’ distance, that its
speed was becoming uniform—a fresh proof that they were
not falling. Its force of impulsion was prevailing over the
lunar attraction, but the trajectory of the projectile was
certainly taking them nearer the lunar disc, and it might be
hoped that at a nearer point the weight would predominate

and enable a landing to be made.

The three friends, having nothing better to do, went on
with their observations. They could not, however, yet
make out clearly the surface details of the moon. Every
relief was levelled under the action of the solar rays.

They watched thus through the lateral windows until
8 p.m. The moon then looked so large that she hid half the
firmament from them. The sun on one side, and the Queen
of Night on the other, flooded the projectile with light.

At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate
700 leagues as the distance separating them from their goal.
The velocity of the projectile appeared to him to be 200
yards a second, or about 170 leagues an hour. The base had
a tendency to turn towards the moon under the influence of

87

ROUND THE MOON

the centripetal force; but the centrifugal force still pre¬
dominated, and it became probable that the path would
change to some curve the nature of which could not be
determined.

Barbicane still sought the solution of this problem. The
hours went by without result. The projectile visibly drew
nearer to the moon, but it was plain that it could not reach
her. The short distance at which it would pass her would be
the result of two forces, attractive and repulsive, which
acted upon the projectile.

“I only pray for one thing,” repeated Michel, “and that
is to pass near enough to the moon to penetrate her secrets.”

“Confound the cause that made our projectile deviate!”
cried Nicholl.

“Then,” said Barbicane, as if he had been suddenly struck
with an idea, “confound that asteroid that crossed our path I”

“Eh?” said Michel Ardan.

“VC'hat do you mean?” exclaimed Nicholl.

“I mean,” resumed Barbicane, who appeared convinced,
“I mean that our deviation is solely due to the influence of
that wandering body.”

“But it did not even graze us,” continued Michel.

“What does that matter? Its bulk, compared with that of
our projectile, was enormous, and its attraction was
sufficient to have an influence upon our direction.”

“That influence must have been very slight,” said Nicholl.

“Yes, Nicholl, but slight as it was,” answered Barbicane,
“upon a distance of 84,000 leagues it was enough to make us
miss the moon!”

88

CHAPTER X

THE OBSERVERS OP THE MOON

Barbicane had evidently found the only plausible reason
for the deviation. However slight it had been, it had been
sufficient. The audacious attempt had miscarried by a
chance happening, and unless anything unexpected hap¬
pened, the lunar disc could no longer be reached. Would
they pass near enough to resolve certain problems in physics
and geology until then unsolved? This was the only question
that occupied the minds of these bold travellers. As to the
fate the future held in store for them, they would not even
think about it. Yet what was to become of them amidst these
infinite solitudes when air failed them? A few more days
and they would fall suffocated in this body wandering at
hazard. But a few days were centuries to these intrepid men,
and they devoted every moment to observing the moon they
no longer hoped to reach.

The distance which then separated the projectile from
the satellite was estimated at about 200 leagues. Under these
conditions the travellers were farther from the moon than
are the inhabitants of the earth with their powerful tele¬
scopes.

It is, in fact, known that the instrument set up by I^rd
Rosse at Parsonstown, which magnifies 6,500 times, brings
the moon to within sixteen leagues; and the powerful
telescope set up at Long^s Peak magnifies 48,000 times, and
brings the moon to within less than two leagues, so that
objects twelve yards in diameter were sufficiently distinct.

Thus, then, at that distance the surface details of the
moon, seen without a telescope, were not distinctly deter¬
mined. The eye caught the outline of those vast depressions
inappropriately called ‘*seas,** but they could not determine

89

ROUND THE MOON

iheir nature. The prominence of the mountains disappeared
under the splendid irradiation produced by the reflection
of the solar rays. The eye, dazzled as if leaning over a furnace
of molten silver, turned from it involuntarily.

However, the oblong form of the orb w'as already clearly
seen.

It appeared like a gigantic egg, with the small end turned
towards the earth. The moon, liquid and pliable in the first
days of her formation, was originally a perfect sphere. But
soon, drawn within the pale of the earth’s gravitation, she
became elongated under its influence. By becoming a
satellite she lost her native purity of form; her centre of
gravity was in advance of the centre of her figure, and from
this fact some scientists draw the conclusion that air and
water might be on the opposite side of the moon, which is
never seen from the earth.

This alteration in the primitive forms of the satellite was
visible for a few moments. The distance between the pro¬
jectile and the moon diminished visibly; its velocity was
considerably less than its initial velocity, but eight or nine
times greater than that of our express trains, llie oblique
direction of the projectile, from its very obliquity, left
Michel Ardan some hope of touching the lunar disc at some
point or other. He could not believe that he should not get
to it. No, he could not believe it, and this he often repeated.
But Barbicane, who was a better judge, always answered him
with pitiless logic.

“No, Michel, no. We can only reach the moon by a fall,
and we are not falling. The centripetal force keeps us under
the moon’s influence, but the centrifugal force sends us
irresistibly away from it.”

This was said in a tone that deprived Michel Ardan of his
last hopes.

At midnight the moon was full. At that precise moment
the travellers ought to have set foot upon her if the unlucky
asteroid had not made them deviate from their direction,
llie orb was exactly in the condition rigorously determined

90

THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON

by the Cambridge Observatory. She was mathematically at
her perigee, and at the zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel.
An observer placed at the bottom of the enormous Columbiad
while it is pointed perpendicularly at the horizon would
have framed the moon in the mouth of the cannon. A
straight line drawn through the axis of the piece would
have passed through the centre of the moon.

It need hardly be stated that during the night between the
5th and 6th of December the travellers did not take a
minute’s rest. Could they have closed their eyes so near to a
new world? No. All their feelings were concentrated in one
thought—to see! Representatives of the earth, of humamty
past and present, all concentrated in themselves, it was
through their eyes that the human race looked at these lunar
regions and penetrated the secrets of its satellite! A strange
emotion filled their hearts, and they went silently from one
window to another.

Their observations were noted down by Barbicane, and
were made rigorously exact. To make them they had tele¬
scopes. To control them they had maps.

TTie first observer of the moon was Galileo. His poor
telescope only magnified thirty times. Nevertheless, in the
spots that pined the lunar disc “like eyes in a peacock’s
tail,” he was the first to recognize mountains, and measure
some heights to which he attributed, exaggerating, an
elevation equal to the 20th of the diameter of the disc, or
8,000 metres. Galileo drew up no map of his observations.

A few years later an astronomer of Dantzig, Hevelius
—by operations which were only exact twice a month, at the
first and second quadrature—reduced Galileo’s heights to
one-twenty-sixth only of the lunar diameter. This was an
exaggeration the other way. But it is to this man that the
first map of the moon is due. The light round spots there
form circ ular mountains, and the dark spots indicate vast
seas which, in reality, are plains. To these mountains and
extents of sea he gave terrestrial names. There is a Sinai in
the middle of an Arabia, Etna in the centre of Sicily, the

91

ROUND THE MOON

Alps, Apennines, Carpathians, the Alediterranean, the
Black Sea, the Caspian, etc.—names badly applied, for
neither mountains nor seas recalled the shapes of their
namesakes on the globe. That large white spot, joined on
the south to vaster continents and terminated in a point,
could hardly be recognized as the inverted image of the
Indian Peninsula, the Bay of Bengal, and Cochin-China. So
these names were not kept. Another cartographer, knowing
human nature better, proposed a fresh nomenclature, which
human vanity made haste to adopt.

'Phis observer was Father Riccioli, a contemporary of
Hevelius. He drew' up a rough map full of errors. But he
gave to the lunar mountains the names of great men of
antiquity and savatus of his owm epoch.

A third map of the moon was executed in the seventeenth
century by Dominique Cassini; superior to that of Riccioli
in the execution, it is inexact in the measurements. Several
smaller copies were published, but the plate long kept in the
Imprimt'rie Nationale w'as sold by weight as old brass.

i.a Hire, a celebrated mathematician and designer, drew
up a map of the moon four and a half yards high, which w’as
never engraved.

After him, a German astronomer, Tobie Marger, about
the middle of the eighteenth centur\', began the publication
of a magnificent map, according to lunar measures, which
he rigorously verified; but his death, which look place in
1762, prevented the completion of this beautiful work.

It was in 1830 that Messrs. Breer and Moedler composed
their celebrated Mappa Selcnographica, according to an
orthographical projection. This map reproduces the exact
lunar disc, such as it appears, only the configurations of the
mountains and plains are only correct in the central part;
cver\'^vherc else—in the northern or southern portions,
eastern or western—the configurations foreshortened can¬
not be compared with those of the centre. This map, one
yard high and divided into four parts, is a masterpiece of
lunar cartography.

92

THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON

After these may be cited the selenographic reliefs of the
German astronomer Julius Schmidt, the topographical
works of Father Secchi, the magnificent sheets of the
English amateur, Waxen de la Rue, and lastly a map on
orthographical projection of Messrs. Lecouturier and

Chapuis, a fine model set up in i860, of very correct design
and clear outlines.

Such is the nomenclature of the different maps relating

to the lunar world. Barbicane possessed two, that of Messrs.

Boeer and Moedler and that of Messrs. Chapuis and

Lecouturier. They were to make his work of observer
easier.

They had excellent marine glasses specially constructed
for this journey. They magnified objects a hundred times;
they would, therefore, have reduced the distance between
the earth and the moon to less than 1,000 leagues. Hut then
at a distance which towards 3 a.m. did not exceed a hundred
i^es, and in a medium which no atmosphere obstructed,
d^e instruments brought the lunar level to less than
fifteen hundred metres.

93

CHAPTER XI

IMAGINATION AND REALITY

“Have you ever seen the moon?” a professor asked one of
his pupils ironically.

“No, sir,” answered the pupil more ironically still, “but
I have heard it spoken of.”

In one sense the answer of the pupil might have been
made by the immense majority of beings. How many people
there are who have heard the moon spoken of and have
never seen it—at least through a telescope! How many even
have never examined the map of their satellite!

Looking at a comprehensive map of the moon, one
peculiarity strikes us at once. In contrast to the geographical
arrangements of the earth and Mars, the continents occupy
the more southern hemisphere of the lunar globe. These
continents have not such clear and regular boundary-lines
as those of South America, Africa, and the Indian Peninsula.
Their angular, capricious, and deeply-indented coasts arc
rich in gulfs and peninsulas. They recall the confusion in
the islands of the Sound, where the earth is excessively cut
up. If navigation has ever existed upon the surface of the
moon it must have been exceedingly difhcult and dangerous,
and the Selenite mariners and hydrographers were greatly
to be pitied, the former when they came upon these perilous
coasts, the latter when they were marine surveying on the
stormy banks.

It may also be noticed that upon the moon the South
Pole is much more continental than the North Pole. On the
latter there is only a slight strip of land capping it, separated
from the other continents by vast seas. (When the word
“seas” is used the vast plains probably covered by the sea
formerly must be understood.) On the south the land covers

94

IMAGINATION AND REALITY

nearly the whole hemisphere. It is, therefore, possible that
the Selenites have already planted their flag on one of their
poles, whilst Franklin, Ross, Kane, Dumont d'Urville,
and Lambert have been unable to reach this unknown
point on the terrestrial globe.

Islands are numerous on the surface of the moon. They
are almost all oblong or circular, as though traced with a
compass, and seem to form a vast archipelago, like that
charming group lying between Greece and Asia Minor.
Involuntarily the names of Naxos, Tenedos, Milo, and
Carpathos come into the mind, and you seek the ship of
Ulysses or the “clipper” of the Argonauts. That was what it
appeared to Michel Ardan; it was a Grecian Archipelago
that he saw on the map. In the eyes of his less imaginative
companions the aspect of these shores recalled rather the
cut-up lands of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia; and where
the Frenchman looked for traces of the heroes of fable,
these Americans were noting favourable points for the
establishment of mercantile houses in the interest of lunar
commerce and industry.

The moon is like an immense Switzerland—a continual
Norway, where volcanic influence has done everything.
This surface, so profoundly rugged, is the result of the
successive contractions of the crust while the orb was being
formed. The lunar disc is excellent for the study of great
geological phenomena. According to the remarks of some
astronomers, its surface, although more ancient than the
surface of the earth, has remained newer. On it there is no
water to deteriorate the primitive relief, the continuous
action of which produces a sort of general levelling. No air ,
the decomposing influence of which modifles orographical
profiles. TTiere Pluto's work unaltered by Neptune's, is in
all its native purity. It is the earth as she was before tides
and currents covered her with layers of soil.

After having wandered over these vast continents the eye
is attracted by still vaster seas. Not only does their forma¬
tion, situation, and aspect recall the terrestrial oceans, but,

95

ROUND THE MOON

as upon earth, these seas occupy the largest part of the
globe. And yet these are not liquid tracts, but plains, the
nature of which the travellers hoped soon to determine.
Astronomers have decorated these pretended seas with
at least odd names which science has respected at present.
Michel Ardan was right when he compared this map to a
“map of tenderness,” drawn up by Scudery or Cyrano de

Bergerac. .

“Only,” added he, “it is no longer the map of sentiment

like ilia't of the eighteenth century; it is the map of life,

clearly divided into two parts, the one feminine, the other

masculine. To the women, the right hemisphere; to the

men, the left!”

When he spoke thus Michel made his companions shrug
their shoulders. Barbicane and NichoU looked at the lunar
map from another point of view to that of their imaginative
friend. However, their imaginative friend had some reason

on his side. Judge if he had not.

In the left hemisphere stretches the Sea of Clouds,
where human reason is so often drowned. Not far olf appears
the “Sea of Rains,” fed by all the worries of existence. Neiir
Ues the “Sea of Tempests,” where man struggles incessantly
against his too-often victorious passions. Then, exhausted
by deceptions, treasons, infidelities, and all the procession
of terrestrial miseries, what does he find at the end of his
career? The vast “Sea of Humours,” scarcely softened by
some drops from the waters of the “Gulf of Dew!” Clouds,
rain, tempests, humours, does the life of man contain
aught but these? and is it not summed up in these four
words?

Tlie right-hand hemisphere dedicated to “the women
contains smaller seas, the significan' names of which agree
with every incident of feminine existence. There is the
“Sea of Serenity,” over which bends the young maiden,
and the “Lake of Dreams,” which reflects her back a happy
future. Tlie “Sea of Nectar,” with its waves of tenderness
and breezes of love! The “Sea of Fecundity,” the “Sea of
96

IMAGINATION AND REALITY

** Qouds;

Serenity; 6, S« Sf*l3*c,S- ^ 5. Sea of

9. Sea of Vapouia; lo^ If T«r.n Sea of Crises;

tip Southern Sea* Sea of Humboldt;

Note that “north” u <»» Doctfel; to, Tveho

often drawn in this mannw as iS^iekfcil^ are

focused on. “jaiiner as the telescope inverts the objea it is

R.M.

97

ROUND THE MOON

Crises,” and the “Sea of Vapours,” the dimensions of
which are, perhaps, too restricted, and lastly, that vast
“Sea of Tranquillity” where all false passions, all useless
dreams, all unassuaged desires are absorbed, and the waves
of which flow peacefully into the “Lake of Death!”

W'hat a strange succession of names! V^Tiat an odd
division of these wo hemispheres of the moon, united to
one another like man and woman, and forming a sphere o{
life, carried through space. And was not the imaginative
xMichel right in thus interpreting the fancies of the old
astronomers?

Uut whilst his imagination ran riot on the “seas,” his
grave companions were looking at other things. They were
learning this new world by heart. They were measuring its
angles and diameters.

To Harbicane and Kicholl the “Sea of Clouds” was an
immense depression of ground, with circular mountains
scattered about on it; covering a great part of the western
side of the southern hemisphere, it covered 184,800 square
leagues, and its centre was in south latitude 15°, and west
K'ngiiude 20°. The Ocean of Tempests, Oceanus Procellarunu
the largest plain on the lunar disc, covered a surface ot
^28,300 square leagues, its centre being in north latitude
~io , and east longitude 45®. From its bosom emerge the
admirable shining mountains of Kepler and Aristarchus.

More to the north, and separated from the Sea of Clouds
by high chains of mountains, extends the Sea of Rains,
Mare Imbriuut, having its central point in north latitude
35' and eiist longitude 20®; it is of a nearly circular form,
and covers a space of 193,000 leagues. Not far distant the
Se;i of Humours, Afare Humorum^ a little basin of 44,200
square leagues only, was situated in south latitude 25®, and
east longitude 40®. Lastly, three gulfs lie on the coast of this
hemisphere—the Torrid Gulf, the Gulf of Dew, and the
Gulf of Iris, little plains enclosed by high chains of moun¬
tains.

"Idtc “I’cmininc” hemisphere, naturallv more capricious,

98

IMAGINATION AND REALITY

was distinguished by smaller and more numerous seas.
These were, towards the north, the Mare Frtgoris, in north
latitude 55® and longitude o®, with 76,000 square leagues of
surface, which joined the Lake of Death and L^ke of Dreams;
the Sea of Serenity, Mare Seremiatisy by north latitude 25®
and west longitude 20®, comprising a surface of 80,000
square leagues; the Sea of Crises, Mare Crisiimii round and
very compact, in north latitude 17® and west longitude 55®,
a surface of 40,000 square miles, a veritable Caspian buried
in a girdle of mountains. TTien on the equator, in north
latitude 5® and west longitude 25®, appeared the Sea of
Tranquillity, Mare TranqmllitatiSy occupying 121,509
square leagues of surface; this sea communicated on the
south with the Sea of Nectar, Afor^ Nectarisy an extent of
28,800 square leagues, in south latitude 15® and west
longitude 35®, and on the east with the Sea of Fecundit>’,
Mare FecunditatiSy the vastest in this hemisphere, occupying
219,300 square leagues, in south latitude 3® and west
longitude 50®. Lastly, quite to the north and quite to the
south lie two more seas, the Sea of Humboldt, Mare
Humboldtianumy with a surface of 6,500 square leagues,
and the Southern Sea, Mare Aastraley with a surface of
26,000.

In the centre of the lunar disc, across the equator and on
the zero meridian, lies the centre gulf, Sinus Mediiy a sort
of hyphen between the two hemispheres.

Thus appeared to the eyes of NichoU and Barbicane the
surface always visible of the earth’s satellite. Wlien they
added up these different figures they found that the surface
of this hemisphere measured 4,738,160 square leagues,
3,317,600 of which go for volcanoes, chains of mountains,
amphitheatres, islands—in a word, all that seems to form
the solid portion of the globe—and 1,410,400 leagues for
the seas, lake, marshes, and all that seems to form the liquid
portion, all of which was perfectly indifferent to the worthy
Michel.

It will be noticed that this hemisphere is thirteen and a

99

ROUND THE MOON

half times smaller than the terrestrial hemisphere. And yet
already 50,000 craters have been counted. It is a rugged
surface worthy of the unpoedcal qualification of * green
cheese” which the English have given it.

\X 7 ien Barbicane pronounced this disobliging name
Michel Ardan gave a bound.

“That is how the Anglo-Saxons of the nineteenth century
treat the beautiful Diana, the blonde Phcebe, the amiable
Isis, the charming Astarte, the Queen of Night, the
daughter of Latona and Jupiter, the younger sister of the
radiant Apollo'/^

100

CHAPTER XII

LUNAR MOUNTAINS

It has already been pointed out that the direction followed
by the projo^tile was taking us towards the northern hemi¬
sphere of the moon. The travellers were far from that central
point which they ought to have touched if their craft had
not been deviated from its course.

It was half-past twelve at night. Barbicane then estimated
his distance at 1^400 kilometres, a distance rather greater
than the length of the moon*s radius, and which must
diminish as he drew nearer the North Pole. The proiectile
was then not at the altitude of the equator, but on the tenth
parallel, and from that latitude carefully observed on the
map as far as the Pole, Barbicane and his two companions
were able to watch the moon under the most favourable
circumstances.

In fact, by using telescopes, this distance of 1,400
kilometres was reduced to fourteen miles, or four and a
half leagues. The telescope of the Rocky Mountains
brought the moon still nearer, but the terrestrial atmosphere
singularly lessened its optical power. Thus Barbicane, in
his projectile, by looking through his glass, could already
see certain details almost imperceptible to observers on the
earth.

“My friends,” then said the president in a grave voice,
“I do not know where we are going, nor whether we shall
ever see the earth again. Nevertheless, let us do our work as
if one day it will be used. We are astonomers. This craft
is the Cambridge Observatory transported into space. Let
us make our observations.”

That said, the work was begun with extreme precision,
and it faithfully reproduced the different aspects of the

lOI

HOUND THE MOON

moon at the variable distances which the projectile reached
in relation to that orb.

\XTiilst the projectile was at the altitude of the loth north
parallel it seemed to follow the 20th degree of east longitude.

Here may be made an important remark on the subject
of the map which they used for their observations. In the
selenographic maps, where, on account of the reversal of
objects by the telescope, the south is at the top and the north
at the bottom, it seems natural that the east should be on the
left and the west on the right. However, it is not so. If the
map were turned upside down, and showed the moon as she
appears, the east would be left and the west right, the
inverse of the terrestrial maps. The reason for this anomaly
is the following:—Observers situated in the northern
hemisphere—in Europe, for example—perceive the moon
in the south from them. When they look at her they turn
their backs to the north, the opposite position they take
when looking at a terrestrial map. Their backs being turned
to the north, they have the east to the left and the west to
the right. For observers in the southern hemisphere—in
Patagonia, for example—the west of the moon would be on
their left and the east on their right, for the south would be
behind them.

Such is the reason for the apparent reversal of these rw'o
cardinal points, and this must be remembered whilst
following the obser\'ations of President Barbicane.

Helped by the Aiappa Selenograpkica of Boeer and
Moedler, the travellers could, without hesitating, survey
that portion of the disc in the field of their telescopes.

“What are we looking at now?” asked Michel.

“At the northern portion of the Sea of Clouds,” answered
Barbicane. “We are loo far off to make out its nature. Are
those plains composed of dry sand, as the first astonomers
believed? Or are they only immense forests, according to
the opinion of Mr. Waren de la Rue, who grants a very low
but very dense atmosphere to the moon? We shall find that
out later on. We w’ill affirm nothing till we are quite certain.”

102

LUNAR MOUNTAINS

This Sea of Clouds is rather doubtfully traced upon the
maps. It is supposed that this vast plain is strewn with
blocks of lava vomited by the neighbouring volcanoes on its
right side, Ptolemy, Purbach, and Arzachel. The projectile
was drawing nearer, and the summits which close in this
sea on the north were distinctly visible. In front rose a
mountain shining gloriously, the top of which seemed
drowned in the solar rays.

“That mountain is-asked Michel.

“Copernicus,’* answered Barbicane.

Copernicus forms the most important radiating system
in the southern hemisphere, according to Tycho Brahd. It
rises isolated like a gigantic lighthouse over that of the Sea
of Clouds bordering on the Sea of Tempests, and it lights
two oceans at once with its splendid rays. Those long
luminous trails, so dazzling at full moon, made a magnificent
spectacle; they pass the boundary chains on the north, and
stretch as far as the Sea of Rains. At i a.m., terrestrial time,
the projectile, like a balloon carried into space, hung over
this superb mountain.

Copernicus is only an extinct volcano, like those on that
side of the moon. It has a diameter of about twenty-two
leagues. The glasses showed traces of stratifications in it
produced by successive eruptions, and its neighbourhood
appeared strewn with volcanic remains, which were still
seen in the crater.

“There exist,” said Barbicane, “several sorts of am¬
phitheatres on the surface of the moon, and it is easy to sec
that Copernicus belongs to the radiating class. If we were
nearer we should perceive the cones which bristle in the
interior, and which were formerly so many fiery mouths.”

“How splendidly it shines!” said Michel. “I think it
vould be difficult to see a more beautiful spectacle!’*

“What should you say, then,” answered Barbicane, “if
the chances of our journey should take us towards the
southern hemisphere?**

“Well, I should say it is finer siiU,” replied Michel Ardan.

103

ROUND THE MOON

At that moment the projectile hung right over the amphi¬
theatre. The circumference of Copernicus formed an almost
perfect circle, and its steep ramparts were clearly defined.
A second circular enclosure could even be distinguished.
A grey, wild plain spread around on which every relief
appeared yellow. At the bottom of the amphitheatre, as if in
a jewel-case, sparkled for one instant two or three eruptive
cones like enormous dazzling gems. Towards the north the
sides of the crater were lowered into a depression which
would probably have given access to the interior of the
crater.

As they passed above the surrounding plain Barbicane
was able to note a large number of mountains of slight
importance, amongst others a little circular mountain called
“Gay-Lussac,” more than twenty-three kilometres wide.
Towards the south the plain was very flat, without one
elevation or projection of the soil. Towards the north, on
the contrary, as far as the place where it borders on the
Ocean of Tempests, it was like a liquid surface agitated by
a storm, of which the hills and hollows formed a succession
of waves suddenly frozen. Over the whole of this, and in all
directions, ran the luminous trails which converged to the
summit of Copernicus. Some had a width of thirty kilo¬
metres over a length that could not be estimated.

The travellers discussed the origin of these strange rays,
but they could not determine their nature any better than
terrestrial observers.

“W hy,” said Nicholl, “may not these rays be simply the
spurs of the mountains reflecting the light of the sun more
vividlv?”

“Ko,” answered Barbicane, “if it were so in certain
conditions of the moon they would throw shadows, which
they do not.”

In fact, these rays only appear when the sun is in opposi¬
tion with the moon, and they disappear as soon as its rays
become oblique.

“But what explanation of these trails of light have been

104

LUNAR MOUNTAINS

imagined?** asked Michel, “for I cannot believe that experts
would ever stop short for want of explanation.**

“Yes,** answered Barbicane, “Herschel has given a theory
but he does not affirm it.**

“Never mind; what is his theory?**

“He thought that these rays must be streams of cold lava
which shone when the sun struck them normally.**

“That may be true, but nothing is less certain. However,
if we pass nearer to Tycho we shall be in a better position
to find out the cause of this radiation.**

“What do you think that plain is like, seen from the
height we are at?** asked Michel.

“I don*t know,** answered Nicholl.

“Well, with all these pieces of lava, sharpened like
spindles, it looks like ‘an immense game of spilikins,’ thrown
down pell-mell. We only want a hook to draw them up.**
“Be serious for once in your life,** said Barbicane.

“I will be serious,** replied Michel tranquilly, “and in¬
stead of spilikins let us say they are bones. This plain would
then be only an immense cemetery upon which would rest
the immortal remains of a thousand generations. Do you
like that comparison better?**

“One is as good as the other,** answered Barbicane.
“The devil! You are difficult to please,** replied Michel.
“My worthy friend,** resumed the prosaic Barbicane, “it
does not matter what it looks like when we don’t know what
it is.**

“A good answer,*’ exclaimed Michel; “that will teach me
to argue with experts.**

In the meantime the projectile went with almost uniform
speed round the lunar disc. A fresh landscape lay before
their eyes every instant. About half-past one in the morning
they caught a glimpse of the summit of another mountain.
Barbicane consulted his map, and recognized Eratosthenes.

It was a circular mountain 4,500 metres high, one of those
amphitheatres so numerous upon the satellite. Barbicane
informed his friends of Kepler’s opinion upon the formation

105

ROUND THE MOON

of these circles. According to the celebrated mathematician,
these cavities had been dug out by the hand of man.

“VC'hat for?” asked NichoU.

*‘In order to preserv'e themselves from the ardour of the
solar rays, which strike the moon during fifteen consecutive
days.”

“The Selenites were not fools!” said Aiichel.

“It was a singnilar idea!” answered NichoU. “But it is
probable that Kepler did not know the real dimensions of
these circles, for digging them would have been giant’s
labour, impracticable for Selenites.”

“VCliy so, if the weight on the surface of the moon is six
times less than upon the surface of the earth?” said Michel.

“But if the Selenites are six limes smaller?” replied
NichoU.

“And if there are no Selenites?” added Barbicane, which
terminated the discussion.

Eratosthenes soon disappeared from the horizon without
the projectile having been sufficiently near it to allow a
rigorous observation. This mountain separated the Apen¬
nines from the Carpathians.

On the moon several chains of mountains have been
distinguished which are principaUy distributed over the
northern hemisphere. Some, however, occupy certain
portions of the southern hemisphere.

Tlie most important of these chains is the Apermines, the
development of which extends 150 Icitgues, and is yet
inferior to that of the great orographical movements of the
earth. The Apennines run along the eastern border of the
Sea of Rains, and are continued on the north by the
Carpathians, the profile of which measures about 100
leagues.

The traveUers could only catch a glimpse of the summit
of these Apennines which lie between west long. 10® and
east long. 16”; but the chain of the Carpathians was visible
from 18 to 30° east long., ...id they could see how they were
distributed.

106

LUNAR MOUNTAINS

One theory seemed to them very justifiable. Seeing that
this chain of the Carpathians was here and there circular in
form and with high peaks, they concluded that it once
formed important amphitheatres. These mountainous circles
must have been broken up by the vast cataclysm to which
the Sea of Rains was subjected. These Carpathians looked
then what the amphitheatres of Purbach, Arzachel, and
Ptolemy would if some cataclysm were to throw down their
left ramparts and transform them into continuous chains.
They present an average height of 3,200 metres, a height
comparable to certain of the Pyrenees. Their southern
slopes fall straight into the immense Sea of Rains.

About 2 a.m. the distance from the projectile to the moon
was only 1,200 kilometres, brought by means of telescopes
to two and a half leagues.

The ^‘Mare Imbrium” lay before the eyes of the travellers
like an immense depression of which the details were not
very distinct. Near them on the left rose Mount Lambert,
the altitude of which is estimated at 1,813 metres, and
farther on, upon the borders of the Ocean of Tempests, in
north lat. 23® and east long. 29®, rose the shining mountain
of Euler. This mountain rises only 1,815 metres above the
lunar surface.

107

CHAPTER XIII

LUNAR LANDSCAPES

At half-past two in the morning the craft was over the
30th lunar parallel at an elfective distance of 1,000 kilo¬
metres, reduced by the optical instruments to ten. The
following is an exact description of what Barbicanc and his
companions saw from that height:

Large patches of different colours appeared on the disc.
Students of the moon do not agree about their nature. They
are quite distinct from each other. Julius Schmidt is of the
opinion that if the earth’s oceans were dried up, a Selenite
observer could only tell the difference between the earth’s
oceans and plains by patches of colour as distinaly varied
as those being observed upon the moon. According to him,
the colour common to the vast plains, known under the
name of “seas,” is dark grey, mixed with green and brown.
Some of the large craters are coloured in the same way.

Barbicanc knew this opinion. He noticed that they were
right, whilst certain astronomers, who only allow grey
colouring on the surface of the moon, are wrong. In certain
places the green colour was very vivid; according to Julius
Schmidt, it is so in the Seas of Serenity and Humours.
Barbicane likewise remarked the wide craters with no
interior cones, which are of a bluish colour, similar to that
of fresh-polished sheets of steel. These colours really
belonged to the lunar disc, and did not result, as certain
a.stronomers think, either from some imperfection in the
object-glasses of the telescopes or the earth’s atmosphere.
Barbicane had no longer any doubt about it. He was looking
at it through the void, and could not commit any optical
error. He considered that the existence of this different
colouring was proved to science. Kow, were the green shades

108

LUNAR LANDSCAPES

owing to tropical vegetation, kept up by a low and dense
atmosphere? He could not yet be certain.

Farther on he noticed a reddish tinge, quite sufficiently
distinct. A similar colour had already been observed upon
the bottom of an isolated enclosure, known under the name
of the Lichtenberg Amphitheatre, which is situated near the
Hercynian Mountains, on the border of the moon. But he
could not make out its nature.

He was not more fortunate about another peculiarity
ofthe disc, for he could not find out its cause. The peculiarity
was the following one:

A^chel Ardan was watching near the president when he
noticed some long white lines brilliantly lighted up by the
direct rays of the sun. It was a succession of luminous
furrows, very different from the radiation that Copernicus
had presented. They ran in parallel lines.

Michel with his usual readiness, exclaimed—

“Why, there are cultivated fields!”

Cultivated fields!” repeated Nicholl, shrugging his
shoulders.

“Ploughed fields, at all events,” replied Michel Ardan.
“But what ploughmen these Selenites must be, and what

gigantic oxen they must harness to their ploughs, to make
such furrows!”

**Thcy are not furrows, they are crevices!”

“Crevices let them be,” answered Michel. “Only what
do you mean by crevices in the world of science?” Barbicane
soon told his companions all he knew about lunar crevices.
He knew that they were furrows observed upon all the
non-mountainous parts ofthe lunar disc; that these furrows,
generally isolated, were from four to five leagues only; that
their width varies from i,ooo to 1,500 metres, and their
edges are strictly parallel. But he knew nothing more about
their formation or their nature.

Barbicane watched these furrows through his telescope
vcry^ attentively. He noticed that their banks were ex¬
ceedingly steep. They were long parallel ramparts; with a

109

ROUND THE MOON

linle imagination they might be taken for long lines of

fortifications raised by Selenite engineers. . j u

Some of these furrows were as straight as if they had ^een
cut by line, others were slightly curved though with edges
still parallel. Some crossed each other. Some crossed craters.
Some furrowed the circular cavities, such as Posidomus or
Petavius. Some crossed the seas, notably the Sea of Seremt>.

These accidents of Nature had naturaUy exercised the
imagination of terrestrial astonomers. The earliest obsetra-
tions did not discover these furrows. Neither Hevehus,
Cassini, La Hire, nor Herschel seems to have known ^em.
It w'as Schroeter who in 17^9 first attracted the attention to
them. At present there are seventy-six; but though they
have been counted, their naturehas not yet been determmed.
They are not fortifications certainly, any more than they are
l-veds of dried-up rivers, for water so light on the surface of
the moon could not have dug such ditches.

It must, however, be acknowledged that Michel Arc^n
!.ad an idea, and that, without knowing it, he shared it with

lulius Schmidt. , , . . u

“■'XTiy,” said he, “may not these inexplicable thmgs he

plants of some sort.’*

“In what way do you mean?” asked Barbicane.

“Now do not be angr>', worthy president,” answered
Michel, “but may not these black lines be regular rows of
trees?”

“Do you want to find some vegetation?” said Barbicane.
“I want to explain what you scientific men do not
explain! My theory will at least explain why these furrows
disappear, or seem to disappear, at regular epochs.”

“WTiy should they?”

“Because trees might become invisible when they lose
their leaves, and visible when they grow again.**

“Your explanation is ingenious, old fellow,” answered
Barbicane, “but it cannot be admitted.”

“VtTiy?”

“Because there cannot be said to be any season on the

no

LUNAR LANDSCAPES

surface of the moon, and, consequently, there can be no
seasonal growth.”

The origin of these furrows is a difficult question to solve.
They were certainly formed after the craters and amphi¬
theatres, for several have crossed them, and broken their
circular ramparts. It may be that they are contemporary
with the latest geographical epochs, and are only owing to
the expansion of natural forces.

In the meantime the projectile had reached the altitude
of the 40th degree of lunar latitude at a distance that could
not be greater than 800 kilometres. Objects appeared through
the telescopes at two leagues only.

The terrestrial atmosphere ought to be 170 times more
than it is in order to allow astronomers to make
observauons on the surface of the moon. But in the void
the proj^tile was moving in no obstruction lay between the
W of the observer and the object observed. What is more,
barbicane was at a less distance than the most powerful
telescope, even that of Lord Rosse or the one on the Rocky
Mountains, could give. Everything was, therefore, favour-
ble for solvmg the great quetion of the habitability of the
moon. Yet the solution of this quetion ecaped him still

distinguish the deserted beds of the immense

grayed *e hand of man. No ruin indicated his passage
No ^nnals mdicated that life was developed there.'Lven ^

^P^rance movement anywhere, no

Of the three kingdoms
1 r the terrestrial globe, only one was repre-
" « H moon—the mineral kingdom.

is nobody afe^^ » ’ °ttt, “there

anZ^’L^^'""^ neither man,

«Z“ntL oo““’ amphitheatres, or

question.” of the moon, we cannot decide the

III

ROUND THE MOON

“It may be,” added Barbicane, “that the Selenites can see
our projectile, but we cannot see them.”

About II a.m., at the altitude of the 50ih parallel, the
distance was reduced to 300 miles. On the left rose the
capricious outlines of a chain of mountains, outlined in full
light. Towards the right, on the contrary, was a large black
hole like a vast dark and bottomless well bored in the lunar
soil.

That hole was the Black Lake, or Pluto, a deep cirdc
from which the moon could be conveniently studied bet¬
ween the last quarter and the new moon, when the shadows
are thrown from west to east.

This black colour is rarely met with on the surface of the
satellite. It has, as yet, only been seen in the depths of the
circle of Endymion, to the east of the Cold Sea, in the
northern hemisphere, and at the bottom of the circle of
Grimaldi upon the equator towards the eastern border of the
orb.

Pluto is a circular mountain, situated in north lat. 51®
and east long. 9®. Its circle is fifty miles long and thirty wide.
Barbicane regretted not passing directly over this vast
opening. There was an abyss to see, perhaps some mysterious
phenomenon to become acquainted with. But the course of
the projectile could not be guided.

About 5 a.m. the northern limit of the Sea of Rains was at
last passed. Mounts La Condamine and Fonienelle re¬
mained, the one on the left, the other on the right. That pan
of the disc, staning from the 60th degree, became absolutely
mountainous. The telescopes brought it to within one
league, an inferior distance to that between the summit of
Mont Blanc and the sea-level. All this region was bristling
with peaks and amphitheatres. Mount Philolaus rose about
the 70th degree to a height of 3,700 metres, opening an
elliptical crater sixteen leagues long and four wide.

Then the disc, seen from that distance, presented an
exceedingly strange aspect. The landscapes were very
different to earthly ones, and also very inferior.

112

LUNAR LANDSCAPES

The moon having no atmosphere presented some strange
sights. There is no twilight on its surface, night following
day and day following night with the suddenness of a lamp
extinguished or lighted in profound darkness. There is no
transition from cold to heat: the temperature falls in one
instant from boiling-water heat to the cold of space.

Another consequence of this absence of air is the following:
Absolute darkness reigns where the sun’s rays do not
penetrate. What is called diffused light upon the earth, the
luminous matter that the air holds in suspension, which
creates twilights and dawns, which produces shadows,
penumbras, and all the magic of the chiaroscuro, does not
exist upon the moon. Hence the harshness of contrasts that
only admit two colours, black and white. If a Selenite
shades his eyes from the solar rays the sky appears absolutely
dark, and the stars shine as in the darkest nights.

The impression produced on Barbicane and his two
friends by this strange state of things may well be imagined.
They did not know how to use their eyes. They could no
longer seize the respective distances in perspective. A lunar
landscape, which does not soften the phenomenon of the
chiaroscuro, could not be painted by a landscape-painter of
the earth. It would be nothing but blots of ink upon white
paper.

This aspect of things did not alter even when the projectile,
then at the altitude of the Both degree, was only separated
from the moon by a distance of fifty miles, not even when,
at 5 a.m., it passed at less than twenty-five miles from the
mountain of Gioja, a distance which the telescopes reduced
to half-a-mile. It seemed as if they could have touched the
moon. It appeared impossible that before long the projectile
should not knock against it, if only at the North Pole, where
the brilliant mountains were clearly outlined against the
dark background of the sky. Michel Ardan wanted to open
one of the p>ort-lights and jump upon the lunar surface.
What was a fall of twelve leagues? He thought nothing of
that. It would, however, have been a useless attempt, for if
R.M.—H 1^3

ROLAND THE MOON

the projectile was not going to reach any point on the
satellite, Michel would have been hurled along by its move¬
ment, and not have reached it either.

At that moment, 6 a.m., the lunar pole appeared. Only
half the disc, brilliantly lighted, appeared to the travellers,
whilst the other half disappeared in the darkness. The
projectile suddenly passed the line of demarcation between
intense light and absolute darkness, and was suddenly
plunged into the profoundest night.

CHAPTER XIV

A NIGHT OP THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR HOURS AND

A HALF

At the moment this took place the projectile was grazing
the moon’s North Pole, at less than twenty-five miles’
distance. A few seconds had, therefore, sufficed to plunge it
into the absolute darkness of space. The transition had
taken place so rapidly, without gradations of light, that the
orb seemed to have been blown out by a powerful gust.

‘‘The moon has melted, disappeared!” cried Michcl
Ardan, wonder-striken.

In fact, no ray of light or shade had appeared on the disc,
formerly so brilliant. The obscurity was complete, and
rendered deeper still by the shining of the stars. It was the
darkness of lunar night, which lasts 354J hours on each
point of the disc—a long night, the result of the equality of
the movements of translation and rotation of the moon, the
one upon herself, the other round the earth. The projectile
in the satellite’s cone of shadow was no longer under the
action of the solar rays.

In the interior darkness was, therefore, complete. Tlie
travellers could no longer see one another. However desirous
Barbicane might be to economize the gas, of which he had
so small a reserve, he was obliged to use artificial light—an
expensive brilliancy which the sun then refused.

‘‘The devil take the radiant orb!” cried Michel Ardan;
“he is going to force us to spend our gas instead of giving us
his light for nothing.”

“We must not accuse the sun,” said Nicholl. “It is not
his fault, it is the moon’s fault for coming and putting
herself like a screen between us and him.”

“It’s the sun!” said Michel again.

115

ROUND THE MOON

“It’s the moon!” retorted NichoU.

An idle dispute began, which Barbicane put an end to by
saying—

“A\y friends, it is neither the fault of the sun nor the
moon. It is the projectile’s fault for deviating from its
course instead of rigorously following it. Or, to be juster
still, it is the fault of that unfortunate asteroid which
altered our first direction.”

“Good!” answered Michel Ardan; “as that business is
settled let us have our breakfast. After a night entirely passed
in making observations, we want something to set us to
rights a little.”

T^is proposition met with no opposition. Michel pre¬
pared the meal in a few minutes. But they ate for the sake
of eating. They drank without toasts or hurrahs. The bold
travellers, borne away into the darkness of space without
their accustomed escort of rays, felt a vague uneasiness
invade their hearts. The “farouche” darkness, so dear to the
pen of Victor Hugo, surrounded them on all sides.

In the meantime tliey talked about this interminable night,
354J hours, or nearh' 15 days, long, which physicTil laws
have imposed upon the inhabitants of the moon. Barbicane
gave his friends some explanation of the causes and con¬
sequences of this curious phenomenon.

“Curious it certainly is,” said he, “for if each hemisphere
of the moon is deprived of solar light for fifteen days, the
one over whicli we are moving at this moment does not
even enjoy, during its long night, a sight of the brilliantly-
lighted earth. In a word, there is no moon, applying that
qualification to our spheroid, e.xcept for one side of the
disc. Now, if it were the same upon earth—if, for example,
Europe never saw the moon, and she was only visible at the
antipodes—vou can figure for yourselves the astonishment
of a European on arriving in Australia.”

‘*Tliey would make the voyage just to go and see the
moon,” answered Michel.

"VC'cll,” resumed Barbicane, “that astonishment is

116

A NIGHT OF 354| HOURS

reserved for the Selenite who inhabits the opposite side of
the moon to the earth, a side for ever invisible to our fellow-
beings on earth.

‘‘And which we should have seen,” added Nicholl, “if
we had arrived here when the moon is new—that is to say,
a fortnight later.”

“To make amends,” resumed Barbicane, “an inhabitant
of the visible face is favoured by Nature, to the detriment of
the inhabitant on the invisible face. The latter, as you see,
has dark nights of 354^ hours long. The other, on the con¬
trary, when the sun, which has lighted him for a fortnight,
sets under the horizon, sees on the opposite horizon a
splendid orb rise. It is the earth, thineen times larger than
that moon which we know—the earth, which only disappears
when the sun reappears.”

“A fine sentence,” said Michel Ardan; “rather academical
perhaps.”

“It follows,” resumed Barbicane, nowise put out, “that
the visible face of the disc must be very agreeable to inhabit,
as it is always lighted by the sun or the earth.”

“But,” said Nicholl, “this advantage must be quite com¬
pensated by the unbearable heat which this light must cause. ”

“This inconvenience is the same under two faces, for the
light reflected by the earth is evidently deprived of heat.
However, this invisible face is still more deprived of heat
than the visible face. I say that for you, Nicholl; Michel
would probably not understand.”

“Thank you,” said Michel.

“In fact,” resumed Barbicane, “when the invisible face
receives the solar light and heat the moon is new—that is to
say, that she is in conjunction, that she is situated between
the sun and the earth. She is then, on account of the
situation which she occupies in opposition when she is full,
nearer the sun by the double of her distance from the earth.
Now this distance may be estimated at the two-hundredth
part of that which separates the sun and the earth; or, in
round numbers, at two hundred thousand leagues. Therefore

117

ROUND THE MOON

this visible face is nearer the sun by two hundred thousand
leagues when it receives his rays.”

“Quite right,” replied NichoU.

“WTiilst-” resumed Barbicane.

“Allow me,” said Michel, interrupting his grave com¬
panion.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go on with the explanation.”

“Why?”

“To prove that I have understood.”

“Go on, then,” said Barbicane, smiling.

“Whilst,” said Michel, imitating the tone and gestures
of President Barbicane, “when the visible face of the moon
is lighted by the sun the moon is full—that is to say, situated
with regard to the earth the opposite to the sun. The
distance which separates it from the radiant orb is then
increased in round numbers by 200,000 leagues, andtheheat
which it receives must be rather less.”

“Whll done!” exclaimed Barbicane. “Do you know,
Midicl, for an artist you are intelligent.”

“Yes,” answered Michel carelessly, “we are all intelligent
on the Boulevard des Italiens.”

Barbicane shook hands gravely with his amiable com¬
panion, and went on to detail other advantages of an
inhabitant on the moon’s visible face.

Amongst others he quoted the observations of the sun’s
eclipses, which can only be seen from one side of the lunar
disc, because the moon must be in opposition before they
can take place. These eclipses, caused by the earth being
between the sun and the moon, may last two hours, during
which, on account of the rays refracted by its atmosphere,
the terrestrial globe can only appear like a black spot upon
the sun.

“Tlien,” said NichoU, “the invisible pan is very iU-
treaied by Nature.”

“No matter,” answered Michel; “if we ever become
Selenites, we wiU inhabit the visible face. I Uke light.”

I iS

A NIGHT OF 354i HOURS

“Unless,” replied NichoU, “the atmosphere should be
condensed on the other side, as certain astronomers
pretend.”

“That is a consideration,” answered Michel simply.

In the meantime breakfast was finished, and the observers
resumed their posts. They tried to see through the dark
port-light by putting out all light in the projectile. But not
one luminous atom penetrated the blackness.

One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbicane. How was it
that though the projectile had been so near the moon,
within a distance of twenty-five miles, it had not fallen
upon her? If its speed had been enormous, he would have
understood why. But with a relatively slight speed the
resistance to lunar attraction could not be explained. Was
the projectile under the influence of some strange force?
Did some body maintain it in the ether? It was evident that
it would not touch any point upon the moon. Where was it
going? Was it going farther away from or nearer to the disc?
Was it carried along in the gloom across infinitude? How
were they to know, how calculate in the dark? All these
questions made Barbicane anxious, but he could not solve
them.

In fact, the invisible orb was there, perhaps, at a distance
of some leagues only, but neither his companions nor he
could any longer see it. If any noise were made on its surface
they could not hear it. The air was wanting to transmit to
them the groans of that moon which the Arabian legends
make “a man already half-granite, but still palpitating.”

It will be agreed that it was enough to exasperate the
most patient observers. It was precisely the unknown
hemisphere that was hidden from their eyes. That face
which a fortnight sooner or a fortnight later had been, or
would be, splendidly lighted up by the solar rays, was lost
in absolute darkness. Where would the projectile be in
another fortnight? Where would the hazards of attraction
have taken it? Who could say?

It is generally admitted that the invisible hemisphere of

U9

ROUND THE MOON

the moon is absolutely similar to the visible hemisphere.
One-seventh of it is seen in those movements of Ubration
Barbicane spoke of. Now upon the surface seen there were
only plains and mountains, amphitheatres and craters, like
those on the maps. They could there imagine the same and
and de;id nature. And yet, supposing the atmosphere to
have taken refuge upon that face? Suppose that with the air
water had given rise to life? Suppose that vegetation still
persists there? Suppose that animals people these continents
and seas? Suppose that man still lives under those condi¬
tions? How many questions there were it would have been
interesting to solve! What solutions might have been drawn
from the contemplation of that hemisphere! >X1iat delight
it would have been to glance at that world which no human
eye has seen!

Tlie disappointment of the travellers in the midst of this
darkness may be imagined. All observation of the lunar
disc was prevented. The constellations alone were visible,
and it must be said that no astronomers had ever been in
such favourable conditions to observe them.

In fact, nothing could equal the splendour of this starry
world, bathed in limpid ether. Diamonds set in the celestial
vault threw out superb flames. One look could take in the
firmament from the Southern Cross to the North Star, those
two constellations which will in 12,000 years, on account of
the succession of equinoxes, resign their roles of polar stars,
the one to Canopus in the southern hemisphere, the other
to Wega in the northern. Imagination lost itself in this sub¬
lime infinitude, amidst which the projectile was moving like
a new star created by the hand of man. From natural causes
these constellations shone with a soft lustre; they did not
twinkle because there was no atmosphere to inter\'ene with
its strata unequally dense, and of different degrees of
humidity, which causes this scintillation.

The tra\ cllers long watched the firmaments, upon which
the vast screen of the moon made an enormous black hole.
Bur a painful sensation drew them from their contemplation.

120

A NIGHT OP 354 i HOURS

This was an intense cold, which soon covered the glasses of
the port-lights with a thick coating of ice. The sun no
loiter warmed the projectile with his rays, and it gradually
lost the heat stored up in its walls. This heat was by
radiation rapidly evaporated into space, and a considerable
lowering of the temperature was the result. The interior
humidity was changed into ice by contact with the window-
panes, and prevented all observation.

NichoU, consulting the thermometer, said that it had
fallen to 17® (Centigrade) below zero (i® Fahr.). Therefore,
notwithstanding every reason for being economical, Barbi-
cane was obliged to seek heat as well as light from gas. The
low temperature of the cabin was no longer bearable. Its
occupants would have been frozen to death.

“We will not complain about the monotony of the
journey,” said Michel Ardan. “What variety we have had,
in temperature at all events! At times we have been blinded
with light, and saturated with heat like the Indians of the
Pampas! Now we are plunged into profound darkness and
cold, like the Esquimaux of the pole! No, indeed! We have
no right to complain, and Nature has done many things in
our honour!”

“But,” asked NichoU, “what is the exterior tempera¬
ture?”

“Precisely that of planetary space,” answered Barbicane.

“Then,” resumed Michel Ardan, “would not this be an
opportunity for making that experiment we could not
attempt when we were bathed in the solar rays?”

“Now or never,” answered Barbicane, “for we are in
the right conditions to verify the temperature of space,
and see whether the calculations of Fourier or PouiUet
are correct.”

“Any way it is cold enough,” said Michel. “Look at the
interior humidity condensing on the pon-lights. If this faU
continues the vapour of our respiration wiU faU around us
like snow.”

“Let us get a thermometer,” said Barbicane.

121

ROUND THE MOON

It will be seen that an ordinary thermometer would have
given no result under the circumstances in which it w-as
going to be exposed. Tlie mercury would have frozen in its
cup, for it does not keep liquid below 44® below zero.
Hut Barbicane had provided himself with a spirit thermo¬
meter.

Before beginning the experiment this instrument w'as
compared with an ordinary thermometer.

“How shall we manage it?'* asked NichoU.

“Nothing is easier,” answered Michel Ardan, who was
never at a loss. “Open the port-light rapidly, throw out the
instrument; it will follow the projectile; a quaner of an
hour after take it in.”

“With your hand?” asked Barbicane.

“With my hand,” answered Michel.

“Well, then, my friend, do not try it,” said Barbicane,
“for the hand you draw back will be only a stump, frozen
and deformed bv the frightful cold.”

“Really?”

“You would feel the sensation of a terrible burn, like
one made w'ith a red-hot iron, for the same thing happens
when heat is brutally taken from our body as when it is
exposed to it. Besides, I am not sure that objects throw'n out
still follow us.”

“Whv?” said NichoU.

“Beaiuse if we are passing through any atmosphere, how ¬
ever slightly den.se, these objects will be delayed. Now the
darkness prevents us verifying whether they still float
around us, Tlierefore, in order not to risk our thermometer,
we will lie something to it, and so easily puU it back into
the interior.”

Barbicane’s advice was foUowed. NichoU threw the
instrument out of the rapidly-opened port-light, holding it
bv a vcr>' short cord, so that n could be rapidly drawn in.
"lYie window was only open one second, and yet that one
second was enough to allow the interior of the projectUe to
become frighifuUy cold.

122

A NIGHT OP 3544 HOURS

*^Mille diablesP* cried Michel Ardan, “it is cold enough
here to freeze white bears!**

Barbicane let half an hour go by, more than sufficient
time to allow the instrument to descend to the level of the
temperature of space. The thermometer was then rapidly
drawn in.

“One hundred and forty degrees Centigrade below zero !**
exclaimed Barbicane.

M. Pouillet was right, not Fourier. Such was the frightful
temperature of outer space! Such perhaps that of the lunar
continents when the orb of night loses by radiation all the
heat which she absorbs during the fifteen days of sunshine.

123

CHAPTER XV

H\T»ERBOI.A OR PARABOLA

Our readers will probably be astonished that Barbicane and
his companions were so little occupied with the future in
store for them in their metal prison, carried along in the
infinitude of ether. Instead of asking themselves where they
were going, they lost their time in making experiments, just
as if they had been comfortably installed in their own
laboratories.

It might be answered that men so strong-minded were
above such considerations, that such little things did not
make them uneasy, and that they had something else to do
than to think about their future.

The truth is that they were not masters of their projectile
—that they could neither stop it nor alter its direction. A
seaman can direct the head of his ship as he pleases. They,
on the contrary, had no control over their vehicle. No
manoeuvre was possible to them. Hence their not troubling
themselves, or “let things go“ state of mind.

Where were they at that moment, 8 a.m. during that day,
called upon earth the sixth of December? Certainly in the
neighbourhood of the moon, and even near enough for her
to appear like a vast black screen upon the firmament. As to
the distance which separated them, it was impossible to
estimate it. The proje<^e, kept up by inexplicable forces,
had grazed the north pole of the satellite at less than twenty-
five miles* distance. But had that distance increased or
diminished since they had been in the cone of shadow?
TTiere was no landmark by which to estimate either the
direction or the velocity of the projectile. Perhaps it was
going rapidly away from the disc and would soon leave the
pure shadow. Perhaps, on the contrary, it was approaching

124

HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA

it, and would before long strike against some elevated peak
in the invisible atmosphere, which would have perhaps
ended the brave adventure.

A discussion began upon this subject, and Michel Ardan,
always rich in explanations, gave out the opinion that the
projectile, restrained by lunar attraction, would end by
fallin g on the moon like an aerolite on to the surface of the

terrestrial globe.

“In the first place,** answered Barbicane, all aerohtes do
not fall upon the surface of the earth; only a small proportion
do so. Therefore if we are aerolites it does not necessarily

follow that we shall fall upon the moon.**

“Still,” answered Michel, “if we get near enough—-
“Error,** repUed Barbicane. “Have you not seen shooting
stars by thousands in the sky at certain times of the year.

“Well, those stars, or rather corpuscles, only shine because
of friaion with the earth’s atmosphere. Now, if they pass
through the atmosphere, they pass at less than i6 miles from
our globe, and yet they rarely fall. It is the same with our
projectile. It may approach very near the moon, and yet not

“Burthen,** asked Michel, “I am curious to know how

our vehicle would behave in space.**

“I only see two alternatives,** answered Barbicane, after

some minutes’ reflection.

“What are they?’*

“The projectile has the choice between two maihemauc^
curves, and it wiU foUow one or the other according to its

velocity, but which I caimot now estimate. .

“Yes, it will either describe a parabola or ^ hyperbola.
“Yes,” answered Barbicane, “with a certain speed it will

describe a parabola, and with

“I like those grand words!** exclaimed Michel Ar^n.

“I know at once what you mean. And what is your parabo a,

if you please?” ... l i

“My friend,** answered the capiam, a parabola is the

ROUND THE MOON

curve produced when a cone is cut through vertically to its
base.’*

“Oh!” said Michel in a satisfied tone.

“It is about the same path as a shell from a gun describes.
■Just so. And an hyperbola?” asked Michel.

“It is a curve formed by a section of a cone when the
cutting plane makes a greater angle with the base than the
side of the cone makes.”

“Is it possible?” exclaimed Michel Ardan in the most
serious tone, as if he had been informed of a grave event.
“Then remember this. Captain NichoU, what I like in your
definition of the hyperbola—I was going to say of the
hyperhumbug—is that it is still less easy to understand than

the word you pretend to define.”

NichoU and Barbicane paid no attention to Michel Ardan's
jokes. They had launched into a scientific discussion. The>-
were eager about what curve the projectile would take. One
was for the hyperbola, the other for the parabola. The>
gave each other reasons bristling with x's. Their arguments
were presented in a language which made Michel Ardan
jump. The discussion was lively, and neither of the adver-

siiries would sacrifice his curve.

'Phis scientific dispute was prolonged until Michel Ardan

became impatient and said—

“I say, Messrs. Cosine, do leave off throwing your
hyperbolas and parabolas at one’s head. I want to know the
only interesting thing about the business. We shall foUow
one or other of your curves. Very well. But where will they
take us to?”

“Nowhere,” answered NichoU.

“How nowhere?”

“Evidently they are unfinished curves, prolonged in¬
definitely!”

“Ah, experts! X^Tat does it matter about hyperbola or
parabola if they both carry us indefinitely into space?”

Barbicane and NichoU could not help laughing. They
cared for science for its own sake. Never had a more useless
126

HYBERBOLA OR PARABOLA

question been discussed at a more inopportune moment.
'Hie fatal truth was that the projectile, whether hyperboli-
cally or parabolically carried along, would never strike
against either the earth or the moon.

What would become of these bold travellers in the most
immediate future? If they did not die of hunger or thirst,
they would in a few days, when gas failed them, die for
want of air, if the cold had not killed them first!

Still, although it was so important to economize gas, the
excessive lowness of the surrounding temperature forced
them to consume a certain quantity. They could not do
without either its light or heat. Happily the heat developed
by the Reiset and Regnault apparatus slightly lifted the
temperature of the projectile, and without spending much
they could raise it to a bearable degree.

In the meantime observation through the port-lights had
become very diffi cult. The steam inside the projectile con¬
densed upon the panes and froze immediately. However, they
could record several phenomena of the highest interest.

In fact, if the invisible disc had any atmosphere, the
shooting stars would be seen passing through it. If the
projectile itself passed through it, might they not hear some
noise echoed—a storm, for instance, an avalanche, or a
volcano in activity? Barbicane and NichoU, standing like
astronomers at their port-lights, watched with scrupulous
patience.

But the disc remained mute and dark. It did not answer
the many questions chasing through their minds.

This provoked from Michel a reflection that seemed cor¬
rect enough.

**If ever we recommence our journey, we shall do well to
choose the time when the moon is new.’^

“True,’* answered NichoU, “that circumstance would
have been more favourable. I agree that the moon, bathed
in sunlight, would not be visible during the passage, but on
the other hand the earth would be fiiU. And if we are
dragged round the moon like we are now, we should at

127

ROUND THE MOON

least have the advantage of seeing the disc magnificently
lighted up.”

“Well said, Nicholl,” replied Michel Ardan. “What do

you think about it, Barbicane?”

“I think this,” answered the grave president: “if ever we
recommence this journey, we shall start at the same time,
and under the same circumstances. Suppose we had
reached our goal, would it not have been better to find the
continents in full daylight mstead of dark night? Would
not our first installation have been made under better
circumstances? Yes, evidently. As to the invisible side,
could have visited that in our exploring expeditions on the
lunar globe. So, therefore, the time of the full moon was
well chosen. But we ought to have reached our goal, and in
order to have reached it we ought not to have deviated from

our path.”

“There is no answer to make to that,” said Michel Ardan.
“Yet we have missed a fine opportunity for seeing the moon!
WTio knows whether the inhabitants of the other planets are
not more advanced than the scientists of the earth on the
subject of their satellites?”

The following answer might easily have been given to
Michel Ardan’s remark: Yes, other satellites, on account of
their greater nearness, have made the study of them easier
The inhabitants of Saturn, Jupiter, and Uranus, if they
exist, have been able to establish communication with their
moons much more easily. The four satellites of Jupiter
gravitate at a distance of 108,260 leagues, 172,200 leagues,
274,700 leagues, and 480,130 leagues. But these distances
are reckoned from the centre of the planet, and by taking
away the radius, which is 17,000 to 18,000 leagues, it will
be seen that the first satellite is at a much less distance from
the surface of Jupiter than the moon is from the centre of
the earth. Of the eight moons of Saturn, four are near.
Diana is 84,600 leagues off; Thetys, 62,966 leagues;
Knceladus, 48,191 leagues; and lastly, Mimas is at an average
distance of 34,500 leagues only. Of the eighteen satellites of

128

HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA

Uranus, the first, Ariel, is only 51,520 leagues from the
planet.

Therefore, upon the surface of those three stars, an
experiment similar to that of President Barbicane would
have presented less difficulties. If, therefore, their inhabi¬
tants have attempted the enterprise, they have, perhaps,
acquainted themselves with the constitution of that half of
the disc which their satellite hides eternally from their
eyes. But if they have never left their planet, they do
not know more about them than the astronomers of the
earth.

In the meantime the projectile was describing in the
darkness that incalculable path which no landmark allowed
them to find out. Was its direction altered either under the
influence of lunar attraction or under the action of some
unknown body? Barbicane could not tell. But a change had
taken place in the relative position of the vehicle, and
Barbicane became aware of it about 4 a.m.

The change consisted in this, that the bottom of the
projectile was turned towards the surface of the moon and
kept itself perpendicular with its axis. The attraction or
gravitation had caused this modification. The heaviest part
of the craft inclined towards the invisible disc exactly as if it
had fallen towards it.

Was it falling then? Were the travellers at last about to
reach their desired goal? No. And the observation of one
landmark, inexplicable in itself, demonstrated to Barbicane
that his projectile was not nearing the moon.

There was a flash of light on the horizon formed by the
black disc. This point could not be mistaken for a star. It
was a reddish flame, which grew gradually larger—an
ncontestable proof that the projectile was getting nearer it,
and not fallin g normally upon the surface of the satellite.

“A volcano! It is a volcano in activity !** exclaimed NichoU
—“an eruption of the interior fires of the moon. That world,
then, is not quite extinguished.**

**Yes, an eruption !** answered Barbicane, who studied the
R.M.—I 129

ROUND THE MOON

phenomenon careaOly through his night-glass. ‘‘What

should it be if not a volcano?*’

«But then,” said Michel Axdan, “air is necessary to feed

that combustion, therefore, there is some atmosphere on
that part of the moon.”

“Perhaps so,” answered Barbicane, “but not necessarily,
volcano, by the decomposition of certain substances, can
furnish itself with oxygen, and so throw up flames into the
void. It seems to me, too, that that eruption has the intensity
and brillianc>' of objects the combustion of which is pro¬
duced in pure oxygen. We must not be in a hurry to affirm

the existence of a lunar atmosphere.

The burning mountain was situated at the 45th degree
of south latitude on the invisible part of the disc. But to the
great disappointment of Barbicane the projectUe swerved
away from the eruption, therefore he could not exactly
determine its nature. Half an hour after it had first
seen this luminous point disappeared over the horizon. Still
having obser\'ed of this phenomenon was a considerable
fact in lunar studies. It proved that all heat had not yet
disappeared from the interior of this globe, and where heat
exists, who may affirm that the vegetable kingdom or even
the animal kingdom itself, has not until now resisted the
destructive influences? The existence of this volcano in
eruption, indisputably established by earthly astronomers,
was favourable to the theory of the habitability of the mcron.

Barbicane became absorbed in reflection. He forgot him¬
self in a mute reverie, filled with the mysterious destinies of
the lunar world. He was trying to connect the facts observed
up till then, when a fresh incident recalled him suddenly to
reality.

This incident was more than a cosmic phenomenon; it
was a threatening danger, the consequences of which might
be disastrous.

Suddenly in the midst of the ether, in the profoimd
darkness, an enormous mass had appeared. It was like a
moon, but a burning moon of almost unbearable brilliancy,

130

An eruption of the inierior fires of the moon

131

ROUND THE MOON

outlined as it was on the total obscurity of space. This mass,
of a circular form, threw such light that it filled the projec¬
tile. The faces of Barbicane, NichoU, and Michel Ardan,
bathed in its white waves, looked spectral, livid.

“The devil!” cried Michel Axdan. “How hideous we
are! Whatever is that wretched moon?

“It is a bolis,** answered Barbicane.

“A bolls, on fire, in the void?”

“Yes.”

This globe of fire was indeed a bolis. Barbicane was not
mistaken. But if these cosmic meteors, seen from the earth,
present an inferior light to that of the moon, here, in the
dark ether, they shone magnificently. These wandering
bodies carry in themselves the principle of their own in¬
candescence; the surrounding air is not necessary. And,
indeed, if certain of these bodies pass through our atmo¬
sphere at two or three leagues from the earth, others describe
their trajectory at a distance the atmosphere cannot reach.
Some of these meteors are from one to two miles wide, and
move at a speed of fort>' miles a second, following an
opposite direction from the movement of the earth.

This shooting star suddenly appeared in the darkness at
a distance of at least too leagues, and measured, according
to Barbicane’s estimate, a diameter of 2,000 metres. It
moved with the speed of about thirty leagues a minute. It
cut across the route of the projectile, and would reach it in a
few minutes. As it approached it grew to an enormous
proportion.

If possible, let the situation of the travellers be imagined!
It is impossible to describe it. In spite of their courage, their
sang-froid^ their carelessness of danger, they were mute,
motionless, w’ith stiffened limbs, a prey to fearful terror.
Their projectile, the course of which they could not alter,
was running straight on to this burning mass, more intense
than the open mouth of a furnace. They seemed to be
rushing towards an abyss of fire.

Barbicane seized the hands of his two companions, and

132

HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA

all three looked through their half-closed eyelids at the
red-hot asteroid. If they still thought at all, they must have
given themselves up as lost!

Two minutes after the sudden appearance of the bolis,
two centuries of agony, the projectile seemed about to
strike against it, when the ball of fire burst like a bomb, but
without making any noise in the void.

NichoU uttered a cry. His companions and he rushed to
the port-lights.

V 5 hiat a spectacle! What pen could describe it, what
palette would be rich enough in colours to reproduce its
magnificence ?

It was like the opening of a crater, or the spreading of an
immense fire. Thousands of luminous fragments lit up
space with their fires. Every size, colour, and shade were
there. There were yellow, red, green, grey, a crown of
multi-coloured fireworks. There only remained of the
enormous and terrible globe pieces carried in all directions,
each an asteroid in its turn, some shining like swords, some
surrounded by white vapour, others leaving behind them a
trail of cosmic dust.

These incandescent blocks crossed each other, knocked
against each other, and were scattered into smaller frag¬
ments, of which some struck the projectile. Its left window
was even cracked by the violent shock. It seemed to be
floating in a shower of bullets, of which the least could
annihilate it in an instant.

The light which saturated the ether was of incomparable
intensity, for these asteroids dispersed it in every direction.
At a certain moment it was so bright that A 4 ichel dragged
Barbicane and NichoU to the window, exclaiming—

“The invisible moon is at last visible!*’

And aU three, across the Ulumination, saw for a few
seconds that mysterious disc which the eye of man per¬
ceived for the first time.

What did they distinguish across that distance which they
could not estimate? Long bands across the disc, veritable

133

ROUND THE MOON

clouds formed in a very restricted atmospheric medium,
from which emerged not only all the mountains, but every
minute detail, amphitheatres, yawning craters, such as
exist on the visible face. Then immense tracts, no longer
arid plains, but veritable seas, oceans which reflected in
their liquid mirror all the dazzling magic of the fires of
space. Lastly, on the surface of the continents, vast dark
masses, such as immense forests would look like under the
rapid illumination of a flash of lightning.

Was it an illusion, an error of the eyes, an optical decep¬
tion? Dared they pronounce upon the question of its
habitability after so slight a glimpse of the invisible disc?

By degrees the illumination of space gradually died out,
its accidental brilliancy lessened, the asteroids fled away,
and went out in the distance. The ether resumed its habitual
darkness; the stars, for one moment eclipsed, shone in the
firmament, and the disc of which scarcely a glimpse had
been caught, was lost in its impenetrable night.

134

CHAPTER XVI

THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE

The projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, a danger
quite unforeseen. Who would have imagined such a meeting
of asteroids? These wandering bodies might prove serious
perils to the traveUers, They were to them like so many
rocks in the sea of ether, which they could do nothmg to
avoid. But did these adventurers of space complain? No,
as Nature had given them the splendid spectacle of a cosmic
meteor shining by formidable expansion, as this incom¬
parable display of fireworks had Ughied for a few seconds
the invisible surface of the moon. During that rapid peep,
continents, seas, and forests had appeared to th^. Then
the atmosphere did give its life-giving panicles. Questions
still not solved, eternally asked by American curiosity.

It was then 3.30 p.m. The projeaile was stiU describing
its curve round the moon. Had its route again been modified
by the meteor? The projectUe ought, however, to d^cribe
a curve determined by the laws of mechanics. Barbi^ne
inclined to the opinion that this curve would be a parabola
and not an hyperbola. However, if the parabola was ad-
mined, the craft ought soon to come out of the cone ot
shadow thrown into the space on the opposite side to the
sun. This cone, in fact, is very narrow, the angular diamet^
of the moon is so small compared to the diameter of the orb
of day. Until now the projectile had moved in profound
darkness. Whatever its speed had been—and it could not
have been sUght—it stiU continued in its diverted path.
That faa was evident, but perhaps that would not have
been the case in a rigidly parabolical course. 'Hus was a
fresh problem which tormented Barbicane’s brain.

Neither of the travellers thought of taking a mmute s

135

ROUND THE MOON

rest. Each watched for some unexpected incident which
should throw' a new light on their studies. About five
o’clock Michel distributed to them, by way of dinner,
some morsels of bread and cold meat, which were rapidly
eaten, whilst no one thought of leaving the port-light, the
panes of which w'ere becoming encrusted under the con¬
densation of vapour.

About 5.45 p.m. Nicholl, armed w'ith his telescope,
noted upon the southern border of the moon, and in the
direction followed by the projectile, a few brilliant points
outlined against the dark screen of the sky. They looked
like a succession of sharp peaks with profiles in a tremu¬
lous line. They were rather brilliant and could not be mis¬
taken. There was no longer any question of a simple
meteor, of which that luminous line had neither the colour
nor the mobility, nor of a volcano in eruption. Barbicane
did not hesitate to declare what it was.

“The sun!” he exclaimed.

“\XTiat! the sun!” answered Nicholl and Michel Ardan.

“Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself, lighting up
the summit of the mountains situated on the southern border
of the moon. \X'e are evidently approaching the South Pole!”

“.\fier having passed the North Pole,” answ'ered Michel.
**Tlicn we have been all round our satellite,”

“Yes, friend Michel.”

“Then we have no more h>perbolas, no more parabolas,
no more open curves to fear!”

“No, but a closed curve,”

“W’hich is called-”

“An ellipsis. Instead of being lost in the interplanetary
•Spaces it is possible that the projectile will describe an
elliptical orbit round the moon.”

“Really!”

“And that it will become its satellite.”

“.Moon of the moon,” e.xclaimed Michel Ardan.

“Only I must tell you, my worthy friend, that we are
none the less lost men on that account!”

136

THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE

*‘No, but in another and much pleasanter way!” an¬
swered the careless Frenchman, with his most amiable
smile.

President Barbicane was right. By describing this ellip¬
tical orbit the projectile was going to gravitate eternally
round the moon—a moon round the moon. It was a new
star added to the solar world, a microcosm peopled by three
inhabitants, whom want of air would kill before long.
Barbicane, therefore, could not rejoice at the position im¬
posed on the projectile by the double influence of the
centripetal and centrifugal forces. His companions and he
were again going to see the visible face of the disc. Perhaps
their existence would last long enough for them to perceive
for the last time the full earth superbly lighted by the rays
of the sun! Perhajjs they might throw a last adieu to the
globe they were never to see again! TTien their projectile
would be nothing but an extinct mass, dead like those inert
asteroids which circulate in the ether. A single consolation
remained to them: it was that of seeing the darkness and
returning to light, it was that of again entering the zones
bathed by solar radiation!

In the meantime the mountains recognized by Barbicane
stood out more and more from the dark mass. They were
Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz, which stand on the southern

circumpolar region of the moon.

All the mountains of the visible hemisphere have been
measured with perfect exactitude. This perfection will, no
doubt, seem astonishing. The altitude of the lunar moun¬
tains may be no less exactly determined than that of the
mountains of the earth.

The method generally employed is that of measuring the
shadow thrown by the mountains, whilst taking into account
the altitude of the sun at the moment of observation. Tliis
method also allows the calculating of the depth of craters
and cavities on the moon. Galileo used it, and since Messrs.
Bocer and Moedler have employed it with the greatest
success.

137

ROUND THE MOON

Galileo, after recognizing the existence of the lunar
mountains, was the first to employ the method of calcula¬
ting their heights by the shadows they throw. He attributed
to them, as it has already been shown, an average of 9,<^
vards. Hevelius singularly reduced these figures, which
Riccioli, on the contrary, doubled. All these measures were
exaggerated. Hcrschel, with his more perfect instruments,
approached nearer the truth. But it must be finally sought
in the accounts of modem observers.

Messrs. Boeer and Moedler, the most perfect students of
the moon in the whole w'orld, have measured 1,095 lunar
mountains. It results from their calculations that 6 of these
mountains rise above 5,800 metres, and 22 above 4,800. Tlie
highest summit of the moon measures 7*603 metres; it is,
therefore, less than those of the earth, of which some are
1,000 yards higher. But one remark must be made. If the
respective volumes of the two orbs are compared the lunar
mountains are relatively higher than the terrestrial. The
lunar ones form ^ of the diameter of the moon, and the
terrestrial only form xio of the diameter of the ca^h.
For a terrestrial mountain to attain the relative proportions
of a lunar mountain, its perpendicular height ought to be
61 leagues. Now the highest is not four miles.

*T^us, then, to proceed by comparison, the chain of the
Himalayas counts three peaks higher than the lunar ones.
Mount Everest, Kunchinjuga and Dwalagiri. Mounts
Doerfel and Leibnitz, on the moon, are as high as Jewahir
in the same chain.

Such are the points of comparison that allow the appre¬
ciation of the altitude of lunar mountains. Now the path
followed by the projectile dragged it precisely tow'ards that
mountainous region of the southern hemisphere w’here rise
the finest mountains on the moon.

CHAPTER XVII

TYCHO

At 6 p.m. the projectile passed the South Pole at less than
thirty miles, a distance equal to that already reached at the
North Pole.

At that moment the travellers re-entered the beneficieni
sunshine. They saw once more the stars moving slowly
from east to west, and saluted it with a triple hurrah. With
its light came also its heat, which soon pierced the middle
walls. The windows resumed their accustomed trans¬
parency. Their “layer of ice” melted as if by enchant¬
ment. The gas was immediately extinguished by way of

economy. ,

“Ah!” said NichoU, “sunshine is good! How unpatiently
after their long nights the Selenites must await the re¬
appearance of the orb of day!”

“Yes,** answered Michel Ardan, “imbibing, as it were,

the brilliant ether, light and heat, all life is in them.

At that moment the bottom of the projectile moved
slightly from the lunar surface in order to describe a rather
long elliptical orbit. From that point, if the earth had been
full, Barbicane and his friends could have seen it again.
But, drowned in the sun’s radiation, it remained absolutely
invisible. Another spectacle attracted their eyes, presented
by the southern region of the moon, brought by the tele¬
scopes to within half a mile. They left the port-lights no
more, and noted aU the details of the strange continent.

Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz formed two separate groups
stretching nearly to the South Pole; the former group ex¬
tends from the Pole to the 84th parallel on the eastern pan
of the orb; the second, starting from the eastern border,
stretches from the 65th degree of latitude to the Pole.

139

ROUND THE MOON

On their capriciously-formed ridge appeared dazzling
sheets of light.

“It is snow,” cried Barbicane.

“Snow?” echoed Nicholl.

“Yes, Nicholl, snow, the surface of which is deeply
frozen. Look how it reflects the luminous rays. Cooled lava
would not give so intense a reflection. Therefore there is
water and air upon the moon, as little as you like, but the
fact can no longer be contested.”

No, it could not be, and if ever Barbicane saw the earth
again his notes would testify to this fact, important in lunar
observations.

These Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz arose in the midst
of plains of moderate extent, bounded by an indefinite
succession of amphitheatres and circular ramparts. These
two chains are the only ones which are met with in the
region of amphitheatres. Relatively they arc not very
broken, and only throw out here and there some sharp
peaks, the highest of which measures 7,603 metres.

The projectile hung high above all this, and their relief
disappeared in the intense brilliancy of the disc.

'Fhcn reappeared to the travellers that original view of the
lunar landscapes, raw in tone, without gradation of colours,
only white and black, for diffused light was wanting. Still
the sight of this desolate world was very’ curious on account
of its very' strangeness. They were moving above this chaotic
region as if carried along by the breath of a tempest, seeing
the summits fly under their feet, looking down the cavities,
climbing the ramparts, sounding the mysterious holes. But
there was no trace of vegetation, no appearance of cities,
nothing but stratifications, lava streams, polished like im¬
mense mirrors, which reflect the solar ray’s with unbearable
brilliancy. There was no appearance of a living world,
everyihing of a dead one, where the avalanches rolling from
the summit of the mountains rushed noiselessly. TThey had
plenty of movement, but noise was still absent.

Barbicane established the fact, by observation, that the

140

TYCHO

reliefs on the borders of the disc, although they had been
acted upon by different forces to those of the central region,
presented a uniform conformation.

Michel Ardan, however, thought he recognised a heap
of ruins, to which he drew Barbicane’s attention. It was
situated in about the 8oth parallel and 30* longitude. This
heap of stones, pretty regularly made, was in the shape of
a vast fortress, overlooking one of those long furrows which
served as river-beds in ante-historical times. Not far off
rose to a height of 5,646 metres the circular mountain called
Short, equal to the Asiatic Caucasus. Michel Ardan, with
his habitual ardour, maintained “the evidences” of his
fortress. Below he perceived the dismantled ramparts of a
town; here the arch of a portico, still intact; there two or
three columns lying on their side; farther on a succession
of archpieces, which must have supported an aqueduct; in
another part the sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge run
into the thickest part of the furrow. He distinguished all
that, but with so much imagination in his eyes, through a
telescope so fanciful, that his observation cannot be relied
upon. And yet who would affirm, who would dare to say,
that the amiable fellow has not really seen what his two
companions would not see?

The moments were too precious to be sacrificed to an idle
discussion. The Selenite city, whether real or pretended,
had disappeared in the distance. The projectile b^an to get
further away from the lunar disc, and the details of the
ground began to be lost in a confused jumble. The reliefs,
amphitheatres, craters, and plains alone remained, and still
showed their boundary-lines distinctly.

At that moment there stretched to the left one of the
finest amphitheatres in lunar orography. It was Newton,
which Barbicane easily recognized.

Newton is situated in exactly 77 ^ south lai. and 16 ^st
long. It forms a circular crater, the ramparts of which,
7,264 metres high, seemed to be inaccessible.

Barbicane made his companions notice that the height

141

ROUKD THE MOON

of that mountain above the surrounding plain was far from
being equal to the depth of its crater. This enormous hole
was beyond all measurement, and made a gloomy abyss,
the bottom of which the sun’s rays could never reach.
There, according to Humboldt, utter darkness reigns, which
the light of the sun and the earth could not break. The
mjahologists would have made it with justice hell’s mouth.

“Newton,” said Barbicane, “is the most perfect type of
circular mountains, of which the earth possesses no speci¬
men. They prove that the formation of the moon by cooling
was due to violent causes, for whilst under the influence of
interior fire the reliefs were thrown up to considerable
heights, the bottom dropped in, and became lower than
the lunar level.”

“I do not say no,” answered Michel Ardan.

A few minutes after having passed Newton the projectile
stood directly over the circular mountain of Morct. It also
passed rather high above the summits of Blancanus, and
about 7.30 p.m. it reached the amphitheatre of Clavius.

This circle, one of the most remarkable on the disc,
is situated in south lat. 58“ and cast long. 15®. Its height is
estimated at 7,091 metres. The travellers at a distance of
200 miles, reduced by two by the telescopes, could admire
the arrangement of this vast crater.

“The volcanoes on earth,” said Barbicane, “are only
mole-hills compared to the volcanoes of the moon. Measur¬
ing the ancient craters formed by the first eruptions of
Vesuvius and Etna, they are found to be scarcely 6,000
metres wide. In France the circle of the Cantal measures
five miles; in Ceylon the circle of the island is forty miles,
and is considered the largest on the globe. What are these
diameters compared to that of Clavius, which we are over
in this moment?”

“>XTiat is its width?” asked Nicholl.

“About seventy miles,” answered Barbicane. “This
amphitheatre is certainly the largest on the moon, but
many are fifty miles wide!”

142

TYCHO

“Ah, my friends,” exclaimed Michel Axdan, “can you
imagine what this peaceful orb of night was once like?
when these craters vomited torrents of lava and stones,
with clouds of smoke and sheets of flame? What a prodi¬
gious spectacle, and now what a falling off! TTiis moon is
now only the meagre case of fireworks, of which the rockets,
serpents, suns, and wheels, after going off magnificently,
only leave tom pieces of cardboard. Who can tell the cause,
reason, or justification of such cataclysms?”

Barbicane did not listen to Michel Ardan. He was
contemplating those ramparts of Clavius, formed of wide
mountains several leagues thick. At the bottom of its
immense cavity lay hundreds of small extinct craters,
making the soil like a sieve, and overlooked by a peak
more than 15,000 feet high.

The plain around had a desolate aspect. Nothing so arid
as these reliefs, nothing so sad as these ruins of mountains,
if so they may be called, as those heaps of peaks and
mountains encumbering the ground! The satellite seemed
to have been blown up in this place.

The projectile still went on, and the chaos was still the
same. Circles, craters, and mountains succeeded each other
incessantly. No more plains or seas—an interminable
Switzerland or Norway. Lastly, in the centre of the creviced
region at its culminating point, the most splendid mountain
of the lunar disc, the dazzling Tycho, to which posterity
still gives the name of the illustrious Danish astronomer.

Whilst observing the full moon in a cloudless sky, there
is no one who has not remarked this brilliant point on the
southern hemisphere. Michel Ardan, to qualify it, em¬
ployed all the metaphors his imagination could furnish him
with. To him Tycho was an ardent focus of light, a centre
of radiation, a crater vomiting flames! It was the axle of a
fiery wheel, a sea-star encircling the disc with its silver
tentacles, an immense eye darting fire, a nimbus made for
Pluto’s head! It was a star hurled by the hand of the Creator
and fallen upon the lunar surface!

M 3

ROUND THE MOON

Tycho forms such a luminous concentration that the
inhabitants of the earth can see it without a telescope,
although they are at a distance of 100,000 leagues. It will,
therefore, be readily imagined what its intensity must have
been in the eyes of observers placed at fifty leagues only.

Across this pure ether its brilliancy was so unbearable
that Barbicane and his friends were obliged to blacken
the object-glasses of their telescopes with gas-smoke.

Then, mule, hardly emitting a few admirative inter¬
jections, they looked and contemplated. All their sentiments,
all their impressions were concentrated in their eyes, as life,
under violent emotion, is concentrated in the heart.

Tycho belongs to the system of radiating mountains,
like Aristarchus and Copernicus. But it testified the most
completely of all to the terrible volcanic action to which
the formation of the moon is due.

Tycho is situated in south lat. 43® and east long. 12®.
Its centre is occupied by a crater more than forty miles
wide. It affects a slightly elliptical form, and is enclosed by
circular ramparts, which on the east and west overlook the
exterior plain from a height of 5,000 metres. It is an aggre¬
gation of Mont Blancs, placed round a common centre,
and crowned with shining rays.

Photography itself could never represent what this in¬
comparable mountain is really like. In fact, it is during
the full moon that Tycho is seen in all its splendour.

The distance which separated the travellers from the
circular summits of Tycho was not so great that the
travellers could not survey its details. Even upon the em¬
bankment which formed the ramparts of Tycho, the
mountains hanging to the interior and exterior slopes rose
in stories like gigantic terraces. They appeared to be higher
by 300 or 400 feet on the west than on the east. A town
built at the bonom of this circular cavity would have been
utterly lost.

Inaccessible and mar\'eUously extended over this ground
of picturesque relief! Nature had not left the bottom of

144

TYCHO

this crater flat and empty. It possessed a special mountain
system which made it a world apart. TTie travellers clearly
distinguished the cones, central hills, remarkable move¬
ments of the ground, naturally disposed for the reception of
masterpieces of Selenite architecture. There was the place
for a temple, here for a forum, there the foundations of a
palace, there the plateau of a citadel, the whole overlooked
by a central mountain 1,500 feet high—a vast circuit which
would have held ancient Rome ten times over.

“Ah!** exclaimed Michel Ardan, made enthusiastic by
the sight, “what grand towns could be built in this circle
of mountains I A tranquil city, a peaceful refuge, away from
all human cares! How all misanthropes could live there, all
haters of humanity, all those disgusted with social life!**

“All! It would be too small for them!** replied
Barbicane simply.

CHAPTER XVIII

GRAVE QUESTIONS

In the meantime the projectile had passed the neighbour¬
hood of Tycho. Barbicane and his two friends then ob¬
served, with the most scrupulous attention, those brilliant

What was this radiating aureole? What geological
phenomenon had caused those ardent beams? Tb^
question justly occupied Barbicane. Under his eyes, in
every direction, ran luminous furrows, tvith raised banks
and concave middle, some ten miles, others more than
twenty miles wide. These shining trails ran in certain places
at least 300 leagues from Tycho, and seemed to cover,
especially towards the east, north-east, and north, half the
southern hemisphere. One of these furrows stretched as
far as the amphitheatre of Neander, situated on the 40th
meridian. Another went rounding off through the Sea of
Nectar and broke against the chain of the Pyrenees after
a run of 400 leagues; others towards the west covered with
a luminous network the Sea of Clouds and the Sea of
Humours.

What was the origin of these shining rays running
equally over plains and reliefs, however high? They all
started from a common centre, the crater of Tycho.

Herschel attributed their brilliant aspect to ancient
streams of lava congealed by the cold, an opinion which has
not been generally accepted. Other astronomers have seen
in these inexplicable rays a kind of rnorainesy ranges of erratic
blocks thrown out at the epoch of the formation of Tycho.

“And why should it not be so?” Nicholl asked
Barbicane, who rejected these different opinions at the
same lime that he related them.

146

GRAVE QUESTIONS

“Because the regularity of these luminous lines, and the
violence necessary to send them to such a distance, are
inexplicable.”

*^Parbleur' replied Michel Ardan. “I can easily explain,
to myself, the origin of these rays.”

“Indeed,” said Barbicane.

“Yes,” resvimed Michel. “Why should they not be the
cracks caused by the shock of a bullet or a stone upon a
pane of glass?”

“Good,” replied Barbicane, smiling; “and what hand
would be powerful enough to hurl the stone that would
produce such a shock?”

“A hand is not necessary,” answered Alichel, who would
not give in; “and as to the stone, let us say it is a comet.

“Ah! comets?” exclaimed Barbicane; “those much-
abused bodies! My worthy Michel, your explanation is not
bad, but your comet is not wanted. The shock might have
come from the interior of the planet. A violent contraction
of the lunar crust whilst cooling would be enough to make
that gigantic crack.”

“Contraction let it be—something like a lunar colic,”
answered Michel Ardan.

“Besides,” added Barbicane, “that is also the opinion
of an English scientist, Nasmyth, and it seems to me to
explain the radiation of these mountains sufficiently.”

“That Nasmyth was no fool!” answered Michel.

The travellers, who could never weary of such a spec¬
tacle, long admired the splendours of Tycho. Their projec¬
tile, bathed in radiation of both the sun and moon, must
have appeared like a globe of fire. They had, therefore,
suddenly passed from considerable cold to intense heat.
Nature was thus preparing them to become Selenites.

To become Selenites! That idea again brought up the
question of the habitability of the moon. After what they
had seen, could the travellers solve it? Could they conclude
for or against? Michel Ardan asked hU two friends to give
their opinion, and asked them outright if they thought

147

ROUND THE MOON

that humanity and animaliry were represented in the lunar
world.

“I think we cannot answer,” said Barbicane, “but in my
opinion the question ought not to be stated in that form.
I ask to be allowed to state it differently.”

“Slate it as you like,” answered Michel.

“This is it,” resumed Barbicane. “The problem is
double, and requires a double solution. Is the moon
habitable? Has it been inhabited?”

“Right,” said Nicholl. “Let us first see if the moon is
habitable.”

“To tell the truth, I know nothing about it,” replied
Michel.

“And I answer in the negative,” said Barbicane. “In
her actual state, with her certainly verv’ slight atmosphere,
her seas mostly dried up, her insufficient w'ater, her re¬
stricted vegetation, her abrupt alternations of heat and cold,
her nights and days 354^ hours long, the moon does not
appear habitable to me, nor propitious to the development
of the animal kingdom, nor sufficient for the needs of
existence such as we understand it.”

“Agreed,” answered Nicholl; “but is not the moon
habitable for beings differently organized to us?”

“That question is more difficult to answer,” replied
Barbicane. “I will try to do it, however, but I ask Nicholl if
movement seems to him the necessary result of existence,
under no matter what organization?”

“Without the slightest doubt,” answered Nicholl.

“Well, then, my w’orthy companion, my answer will be
that we have seen the lunar continent at a distance of 500
yards, and that nothing appeared to be moving on the
surface of the moon. The presence of no matter what form
of humanity would be betrayed by appropriations, different
constructions, or even ruins. What did we see? Everywhere
the geological work of Nature, never the work of man. If,
therefore, representatives of the animal kingdom exist upon
the moon, they have taken refuge in those bottomless

148

GRAVE QUESTIONS

cavities which the eye cannot reach. And I cannot admit
that either, for they would have left traces of their passage
upon the plains which the atmosphere, however slight,
covers. Now these traces are nowhere visible. Therefore the
only theory that remains is one of living beings without
movement or life.”

“You might just as well say living creatures who are not
alive.”

“Precisely,” answered Barbicane, “which for us has no
meaning.”

“Now may we formulate our opinion?” said Michel.

“Yes,” answered NichoU.

“Very well,” resumed Michel Ardan; “the Scientific
Commission, meeting in the projectile of the Gun Club,
after having supported its arguments upon fresh facts lately
observed, decides unanimously upon the question of the
habitability of the moon—‘No, the moon is not inhabited.

This decision was taken down by Barbicane in his note¬
book, where he had already written a report of the sitting of
December 6th.

“Now,” said Nicholl, “let us attack the second question,
depending on the first. I therefore ask the honourable
Commission if the moon is not habitable, has it been

inhabited?”

‘*Answcr> Citizen Barbicane>*^ said Michel Ax dan,

“My friends,” answered Barbicane, “I did not undertake
this journey to form an opinion upon the ancient habitability
of our satellite. I may add that my personal observations
only confirm me in this opimon. I believe, I even affirm,
that the moon has been inhabited by a human race organized
like ours, that it has produced animals anatomically formed
[jlc^ terrestrial animals; but I add that these races, human or
animal, have had their day, and are for ever extinct.”

“Then,” asked Michel, “the moon is an older world than

the earth?” . . ,

“No,” answered Barbicane with conviction, but a

world that has grown old more quickly, whose formation

149

ROUND THE MOON

and decay have been more rapid. Relatively the organizing
forces of matter have been much more violent in the interior
of the moon than in the interior of the earth. The actual state
of this disc, broken up, tormented, and swollen, proves this
abundantly. In their origin the moon and the earth were
only gases. These gases became liquids under different
influences, and the solid mass was formed afterwards. But
it is certain that our globe was gas or liquid still when the
moon, already solidified by cooling, became habitable.”

“I believe that,” said NichoU.

“Then,” resumed Barbicane, “it was surrounded by
atmosphere. The water held in by the gassy element could
not evaporate. Under the influence of air, water, light and
heat, solar and central, vegetation took possession of these
continents prepared for its reception, and cer ta i n ly life
manifested itself about that epoch, for Nature does not
spend itself stupidly, and a world so marvellously habitable
must have been inhabited.”

“Still,” answered Nicholl, “many things must have
prevented the expansion of the vegetable and animal king¬
doms. The days and nights 354^ hours long, for example.”

“At the terrestrial poles,” said Michel, “they last six
months.”

“That is not a valuable argument, as the poles are not
inhabited.”

“In the actual stale of the moon,” resumed Barbicane,
“the long nights and days create differences of temperature
which the human body cannot stand, but it was not so in its
earlier history. The atmosphere enveloped the disc with a
fluid matter. Vapour deposited itself in the form of clouds.
This natural screen tempered the power of the solar rays,
and retained the nocturnal radiation. Both light and heat
could diffuse themselves in the air. Hence there was equili¬
brium between the influences which no longer exists now
that the atmosphere has almost entirely disappeared.
Besides, I shall astonish you-”

“Astonish us?” said Michel Ardan.

150

GRAVE QUESTIONS

“But I believe that at the time when the moon was
inhabited the nights and days did not last 354i hours'.”
“Why so!” asked NichoU quickly.

“Because it is very probable that then the moon’s move¬
ment of rotation on her axis was not equal to her movement
of revolution, an equality which puts every point of the
lunar disc under the action of the solar rays for fifteen days.”

‘^Agreed,” answered NichoU; “but why should these
movements not have been equal, since they are so actuaUy?”

“Because that equality has only been determined by
terrestrial attraction. Now, how do we know that this
attraction was powerful enough to influence the movements
of the moon at the time the earth was stiU fluid?”

“True,” replied NichoU; “and who can say that the moon
has always been the earth’s satellite?”

“And who can say,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that the
moon did not exist before the earth?”

“Those,” said he, “are speculations too high, problems
reaUy insoluble. Suffice it to say that even under difficult

conditions life was possible.”

“Then.” asked Michel Ardan, “humanity has quite

disappeared from the moon?”

“Yes,” answered Barbicane, “after having, doubtless,
existed for thousands of centuries. Then graduaUy the
atmosphere becoming rarefied, the disc wiU again be un¬
inhabitable like the terrestrial globe wUl one day become by
cooling.”

“By cooling?”

**Certainly,” answered Barbicane. “As the interior fires
became extinguished the lunar disc became cool. By degrees
the consequences of this phenomenon came about the
disappearance of animal life and the disappearance of
vegetation. Soon the atmosphere became rarefied, and was
probably drawn away by terrestrial attraction; the breath¬
able air disappeared, and so did water by evaporation. At
that time the moon became uninhabitable, and was no
longer inhabited. It was a dead world like it is to-day.”

151

ROUND THE MOON

“And you say that the like fate is reserved for the earth?”

“Very probably.”

“But when?”

“When the cooling of its crust will have made it unin¬
habitable.”

“Has the time it will take our unfortunate globe to die
been calculated?”

“Certainly.”

“And you know the answer?”

“Perfectly.”

“Then tell us, sulky expert—you make me boil with
impatience.”

“VC'ell, my worthy Michel,” answered Barbicane tran¬
quilly, “it is well known what decrease of temperature the
earth suffers in the lapse of a century. Now, according to
certain calculations, that average temperature will be
brought down to zero after a period of 400,000 years!”

“Four hundred thousand years!” exclaimed Michel. “Ah!
I breathe again! I was really frightened. I imagined from
listening to you that we had only fifty thousand years to
live!”

Barbicane and NichoU could not help laughing at their
companion’s uneasiness. Then NichoU, who wanted to have
done with it, reminded them of the second question to be
settled.

“Has the moon been inhabited?” he asked.

The answer was unanimously in the affirmative.

During this discussion, fruitful in somewhat hazardous
theories, although it resumed the general ideas of science on
the subject, the projectile had run rapidly towards the lunar
equator, at the same time that it went farther away from the
lunar disc. It had passed the circle of Willem, and the 40th
parallel, at a distance of 400 miles. Then leaving Pitatus to
the right, on the 30th degree, it went along the south of the
Sea of Clouds, of which it had already approached the north.
Different amphitheatres appeared confusedly under the
white light of the fuU moon—Bouillaud, Purback, almost

152

GRAVE QUESTIONS

square with a central crater, then Arzachel, whose interior
mountain shone with indefinable brilliancy.

At last, as the projectile went farther and farther away,
the details faded from the travellers* eyes, the mountains
were confounded in the distance, and all that remained of
the marvellous, fantastical, and wonderful satellite of the
earth was the imperishable remembrance.

153

CHAPTER XIX

f-

A STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE

For some time Barbicane and his companions, mute and
pensive, looked at this world, which they had only seen
from a distance, like Moses saw Canaan, and from which
they were going away for ever. The position of the projectile
relatively to the moon was modified, and now its lower end
was turned towards the earth.

This change, verified by Barbicane, surprised him greatly.
If the projectile were going to gravitate round the satellite in
an elliptical orbit, why was not its heaviest part turned
tow’ards it like the moon to the earth? There, again, was an
obscure point.

By w’atching the progress of the projectile they could see
that it was following a curve away from the moon similar to
that by which it approached her. It was, therefore, describing
a very long ellipsis which would probably extend to the
point of equal attraction, where the influences of the earth
and her satellite are neutralized.

Such was the conclusion which Barbicane correctly drew
from the facts observed, a conviction which his two friends
shared with him.

Questions immediately began to shower upon him.

“\KTiat will become of us after we have reached the
neutral point?” asked Alichel Ardan.

“'Fhat is unknown,” answered Barbicane.

“But we can make suppositions, I suppose?”

“W’e can make two,” answered Barbicane. “Either the
velocity of the projectile will then be insufficient, and it will
remain entirely motionless on that line of double attrac¬
tion-”

154

A STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE

“I would rather have the other supposition> whatever it
is,” replied Michel.

‘‘Or the velocity will be sufficient,” resumed Barbicane,
“and it will continue its elliptical orbit, and gravitate
eternally round the moon.”

“Not very consoling that revolution,” said Michel, “to
become the humble servants of a moon whom we are in the
habit of considering our servant. And is that the future that
awaits us?”

Neither Barbicane nor NichoU answered.

“Why do you not answer?” asked the impatient Michel.

“There is nothing to answer,” said NichoU.

“Can nothing be done?”

“No,” answered Barbicane. “Do you pretend to struggle
with the impossible?”

“Why not? Ought a Frenchman and two Americans to
recoU at such a word?”

“But what do you want to do?”

Ci

‘Command the motion that is carrying us along!”
‘Command it?”

‘Yes,” resumed Michel, getting animated, “stop it or
modify it; use it for the accomplishment of our plans.”

“And how, pray?”

“That is your business! If artillerymen are not masters of
th ei r buUets they are no longer artiUerymen. If the projectile
commands the gunner, the gunner ought to be rammed
instead into the cannon! Fine experts, truly! who don’t
know now what to do after having induced me-”

“Induced!” cried Barbicane and NichoU. “Induced!
What do you mean by that?”

“No recriminauons!” said Michel. “I do not complain.
The journey pleases me. But let us do aU that is humanly
possible to faU somewhere, if only upon the moon.”

“We should only be too glad, my worthy Michel,”
answered Barbicane, “but we have no means of doing it.”

“Can we not modify the motion of the projectUe?”

“No.”

>55

ROUND THE MOON

“Nor diminish its speed?”

“No.”

“Not even by lightening it like they lighten an over¬
loaded ship?”

“What can we throw out?” answered Nicholl. “We have
no ballast on board. And besides, it seems to me that a
lightened projectile would go on more quickly.”

“Less quickly,” said Michel.

“More quickly,” replied Nicholl.

“Neither more nor less quickly,” answered Barbicane,
wishing to make his two friends agree, “for we are moving
in the void where we cannot take specific weight into
account.”

“Very well,” exclaimed Alichel Ardan in a determined
tone; “there is only one thing to do.”

“VCTiat is that?” asked Nicholl.

“Have breakfast,” imperturbably answered the audacious
Frenchman, who always brought that solution to the
greatest difficulties.

In fact, though that operation would have no influence on
the direction of the projectile, it might be attempted without
risk, and even successfully from the point of view of the
stomach. Decidedly the amiable Michel had only good
ideas.

Tliey breakfasted, therefore, at 2 a.m., but the hour was
not of much consequence. Michel served up his habitual
menuy crowned by an amiable bottle out of his secret cellar.

The meal over, observations began again.

The objects they had thrown out of the projectile still
followed it at the same invariable distance. It was evident
that the craft in its movement round the moon had not
passed through any atmosphere, for the specific weight of
these objects would have modified their respective distances.

There was nothing to see on the side of the terrestrial
globe. The earth was only a day old, having been new at
midnight the day before, and two days having to go by
before her crescent, disengaged from the solar rays, could

156

A STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE

serve as a clock to the Selenites, as in her movement of
rotation each of her points always passes the same meridian
of the moon every twenty-four hours.

The spectacle was a different one on the side of the moon;
the orb was shining in all its splendour amidst innumerable
constellations, the rays of which could not trouble its
purity. Upon the disc the plains again wore the sombre
tint which is seen from the earth. The rest of the nimbus
was shining, and amidst the general blaze Tycho stood out
like a sun.

Barbicane could not manage any way to appreciate the
velocity of the projectile, but reasoning demonstrated that
this speed must be uniformly diminishing in conformity
with the laws of mechanics.

In fact, it being admitted that they would describe an
orbit round the moon, that orbit must necessarily be
elliptical. Science proves that it must be thus. No movement
round any body is an exception to that law. All the orbits
described in space are elliptical, those of satellites round
their planets, those of planets around their sun, that of the
sun round the unknown orb that serves as its central pivot.
Why should the projectile of the Gun Club escape that
natural arrangement?

Now in elliptical orbits attracting bodies always occupy
one of the foci of the ellipsis. The satellite is, therefore,
nearer the body round which it gravitates at one moment
than it is at another. When the earth is nearest the sun she
is at her perihelion, and at her aphelion when most distant.
The moon is nearest the earth at her perigee, and most
distant at her apogee. Now, if the projectile remained a
satellite of the moon, it ought to be said that it is in its
“aposelene” at its most distant point, and at its “penselene

at its nearest. . .

In the latter case the projectile ought to attain its maxi¬
mum of speed, in the latter its minimum. Now it was
evidently going towards its “aposelene,” and Barbicane was
right in thinking its speed would decrease up to that point,

ROUND THE MOON

and gradually increase when it would again draw near the
moon. That speed even would be absolutely nil if the point
was coexistent with that of attraction.

Barbicane studied the consequences of these different
situations; he was trying what he could make of them when
he was suddenly interrupted by a cry from Michel Ardan.

“I* faith!” cried Michel, “what fools we are!”

don’t say we are not,” answered Barbicane; “but
why?”

“Because we have some very simple means of slackening
the speed that is taking us away from the moon, and we do
not use them.”

“And what are those means?”

“That of utilizing the force of recoil in our rockets.”

“Ah, why not?” said NichoU.

“We have not yet utilized that force, it is true,” said
Barbicane, “but we shall do so.”

“V^Tien?” asked Michel.

“When the time comes. Remark, my friends, that in the
position now occupied by the projectile, a position still
oblique to the lunar disc, our rockets, by altering its direc¬
tion, might take it farther away instead of nearer to the
moon. Now I suppose it is the moon you w’ant to reach?”

“Essentially,” answered Michel.

“Wait, then. Through some inexplicable influence the
projectile has a tendency to let its lower end fall low’ards the
earth. It is probable that at the point of equal attraction its
conical end will be rigorously directed towards the moon.
At that moment it may be hoped that its speed will be ml.
That will be the time to act, and under the effort of our
rockets we can, perhaps, provoke a direct fall upon the
surface of the lunar disc.”

“Bravo!” said Michel.

“We have not done it yet, and we could not do it as we
passed the neutral point, because the projectile had too
much speed.”

“W'ell reasoned out,” said NichoU.

158

A STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE

**We must wait patiently,** said Barbicane, “and put every
chance on our side; then, after having despaired so long,
I again be^ to think we shall reach our goat’*

T*his conclusion provoked hurrahs from Michel Ardan.
Not one of these daring madmen remembered the question
they had all answered in the native—No, the moon is not
inhabited! No, the moon is probably not habitable! And
yet they were going to do all they could to reach it.

One question only now remained to be solved: at what
precise moment would the projectile reach that point of
equal attraction where the travellers would play their last

card?

In order to calculate that moment to within some seconds
Barbicane had only to have recourse to his travelling notes,
and to take the different altitudes from lunar parallels.
Thus the time employed in going over the distance be¬
tween the neutral point and the South Pole must be equal
to the distance which separates the South Pole from the
neutral point. The hours representing the time it took
were carefully noted down, and the calculation became

^bicane found that this point would be reached by the
projectile at i a.m. on the 8th of December. It was then
3 a.m. on the yth of December. Therefore, if nothing
intervened, the projectile would reach the neutral point in

twenty-two hours. , , u

The rockets had been put in their places to slacken the

fall of the projectile upon the moon, and now the bold
fellows were going to use them to provoke an exactly con¬
trary effect. However that may be, they were ready, and
there was nothing to do but await the moment for setting

“As there U nothing to do,’* said NichoU, “I have a

proposition to make.**

“What is that?** asked Barbicane.

“I propose we go to sleep.**

“That is a nice idea!** exclaimed Michel Ardan.

159

ROUND THE MOON

“It is forty hours since we have closed our eyes,’* said
NichoU. “A few hours’ sleep would set us up again.”

“Never!” replied Michel.

“Good,” said NichoU; “every man to his humour—mine
is to sleep.”

And lying down on a divan, NichoU was soon snoring.

“NichoU is a sensible man,” said Barbicane soon. “I shaU
imitate him.”

A few minutes after he was joining his bass to the cap¬
tain’s baritone.

“Decidedly,” said Michel Ardan, when he found himself
alone, “these practical people sometimes do have odd ideas.”

And stretching out his long legs, and folding his long
arms under his head, Michel went to sleep too.

But this slumber could neither be durable nor peaceful.
Too many preoccupations fiUed the minds of these three
men, and a few hours after, at about 7 a.m., they aU three
awoke at once.

The projectUe was stiU moving away from the moon,
inclining its conical end more and more towards her. This
phenomenon was inexplicable at present, but it fortunately
aided the designs of Barbicane.

Another seventeen hours and the time for action would
have come.

That day seemed long. However bold they might be, the
traveUers felt much anxiety at the approach of the minute
that was to decide everything, either their faU upon the
moon or their imprisonment in an everlasting orbit. They
therefore counted the hours, which went too slowly for
them, Barbicane and NichoU obstinately plunged in calcula¬
tions, Michel walking up and down the narrow space be¬
tween the w’aUs contemplating with longing eye the impas¬
sive moon.

Sometimes thoughts of the earth passed through their
minds. They saw again their friends of the Gun Club, and
the dearest of them aU, J, T. Maston. At that moment the
honourable secretary must have been at his post on the

160

A STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE

Rocky Mountains. If he should perceive the projectile upon
the mirror of his gigantic telescope what would he think?
After having seen it disappear behind the south pole of the
moon, they would see it reappear at the north! It was,
therefore, the satellite of a satellite! Had J, T. Maston sent
that unexpected announcement into the world? Was this
to be the end of the great enterprise?

Meanwhile the day passed without incident. Terrestrial
midnight came. The 8th of December was about to com¬
mence. Another hour and the point of equal attraaion
would be reached. What velocity then animated the
projectile? They could form no estimate; but no error
could vitiate Barbicane’s calculations. At i a.m. that velocity
ought to be and would be zero.

Besides, another phenomenon would mark the stopping
point of the projeaile on the neutral line. In that spot the
two attractions, terrestrial and lunar, would be annihilated.
Objects would not weigh anything. This singular fact,
which had so curiously surprised Barbicane and his com¬
panions before, must again come about under identical
circumstances. It was at that precise moment they must act.

The conical end of the projectile had already sensibly
turned towards the lunar disc. The projectile was just right
for utilizing all the recoil produced by setting fire to the
apparatus. Chance was therefore in the travellers’ favour.
If the velocity of the projeaile were to be absolutely armi-
h^ted upon the neutral point, a given motion, however
slight, towards the moon would determine its fall

“Five minutes to one,” said NichoU.

“Everything is ready,” answered Michel Ardan, directing

his match towards the flame of the gas.

“Wait!” said Barbicane, chronometer in hand.

At that moment weight had no effea. The travellers felt
Its complete disappearance in themselves. They were near
the neutral point if they had not reached it.

“One o’clock!” said Barbicane.

Michel Ardan put his match to a contrivance that nut

R.M.—L

ROUND THE MOON

all the fuses into instantaneous communication. No detona¬
tion was heard outside, where air was wanting, but through
the port-lights Barbicane saw the prolonged flame, which

was immediately extinguished.

The projectile had a slight shock which was very sensibly

felt in the interior.

The three friends looked, listened, without speakmg,
hardly breathing. The beating of their heans might have

been heard in the absolute silence.

“Are we falling?’’ asked Michel Ardan at last.

“No,” answered NichoU; “for the bottom of the pro¬
jectile has not turned towards the lunar disc!”

At that moment Barbicane left his window and turned
towards his two companions. He was frightfully pale, his
forehead wrinkled, his Ups contracted.

“We are falUng!” said he.

“Ah!” cried Michel Ardan, “upon the moon?”

“Upon the earth!” answered Barbicane.

“The devil!” cried Michel Ardan; and he added philo¬
sophically, “when we started we did not think it would be so

difficult to get out of it again.”

In fact, the frightful fall had begun. The velocity kept by
the projectile had sent it beyond the neutral point. The
explosion of the fuses had not stopped it. That velocity
which had carried the projectile beyond the neutral line
as it went was destined to do the same upon its return. The
law of physics condemned it, in its elUptical orbit, to pass by
every point it had already passed.

It was a terrible fall from a height of 78,000 leagues, and
which no springs could deaden. According to the laws of
balUstics the projectile would strike the'earih with a vdodty
equal to that which animated it as it left the Columbiad—a
velocity of “16,000 metres in the last second!”

And in order to give some figures for comparison it has
been calculated that an object throwm from the towers of
Notre Dame, the altitude of which is only 200 feet, would
reach the pavement with a velocity of 120 leagues an hour.
162

•••

♦•I

ROUND THE MOON

Here the projectile would strike the earth with a velocity of

57,600 leagues an hour.

*‘\Ve are lost men,” said NichoU coldly.

“Well, if we die,” answered Barbicane, with a sort of
religious' enthusiasm, “the result of our journey will ^
magnificently enlarged! God will tell us His own secret. In
the other life the soul wiU need neither machines nor
engines in order to know! It wUl be identified with eternal

wisdom!”

“True,” replied Michel Ardan: “the other world may
well console us for that trifling orb called the moon!

Barbicane crossed his arms upon his chest with a move¬
ment of sublime resignation.

“God’s will be done!” he said.

CHAPTER XX

THE SOUNDINGS OF THE “SUSQUEHANNA”

“Well, lieutenant, and what about those soundings?”

“I think the operation is almost over, sir. But who would
have expected to find such a depth so near land, at loo
leagues only from the American coast?”

“Yes, Bronsfield, there is a great depression,” said
Captain Blomsberry. “There exists a submarine valley
here, hollowed out by Humboldt’s current, which runs
along the coasts of America to the Straits of Magellan.”

“Those great depths,” said the lieutenant, “are not
favourable for the laying of telegraph cables. A smooth
plateau is the best, like the one the American cable lies on
between Valentia and Newfoundland.”

“I agree with you, Bronsfield. And, may it please you,
lieutenant, where are we now?”

“Sir,” answered Bronsfield, “we have at this moment
21,500 feet of line out, and the bullet at the end of the line
has not yet touched the bottom, for the sounding-lead would
have come up again.”

“Brook’s apparatus is an ingenious one,” said Captain
Blomsberry. “It allows us to obtain very correct soundings.”

“Touched 1 ” cried at that moment one of the forecastle-
men who was superintending the operation.

The captain and lieutenant went on to the forecastle-
deck.

“What depth are we in?” asked the captain.

“Twenty-one thousand seven hundred and sixty-two
feet,” answered the lieutenant, writing it down in his
pocket-book.

“Very well, Bronsfield,” said the captain, “I will go and
mar k the result on my chart. Now have the sounding-line

165

ROUND THE MOON

brought in—that is a work of several hours. Meanwhile the
engineer shall have his fires lighted, and we shall be ready
lo start as soon as you have done. It is lo p.m., and with
your permission, lieutenant, I shall turn in.”

“Certainly, sir, certainly!” answered Lieutenant Brons-
tleld amiably.

The captain of the Susquehanna, a worthy man if ever
there was one, the very humble servant of his officers, went
to his cabin, took his brandy-and-water with many ex¬
pressions of satisfaction to the steward, got into bed, not
before complimenting his servant on the way he made beds,
and sank into peaceful slumber.

It was then lo p.m. The eleventh day of the month of
December was going to end in a magnificent night.

Tht Susquehanna, a cor\ette of 500 horse-power, of the
United States Navy, was taking soundings in the Pacific
at about a hundred leagues from the American coast,
abreast of that long peninsula on the coast of New Mexico.

The wind had gradually fallen. There was not the slightest
movement in the air. The colours of the corvette hung from
the mast motionless and inert.

TTie captain, Jonathan Blomsberr>^ cousin-german to
Colonel Blomsberry, one of the Gun Club members who
had married a Horschbidden, the captain’s aunt and
daughter of an honourable Kentucky merchant—Captain
Blomsberrv could not have wished for better weather to
carr\' out the delicate operation of sounding. His corvette
had felt nothing of that great tempest which swept away the
clouds heaped up on the Rocky Mountains, and allowed
the course of the famous projectile to be obser\'ed. All was
going on well, and he did not forget to thank Heaven.

The series of soundings executed by the Susquehanna
were intended for finding out the most favourable bottoms
for the laying of a submarine cable between the Hawaian
Islands and the American coast.

It was a vast project set on foot by a powerful company.
Its director, the intelligent Cyrus Field, meant e%'en to cover

166

THE SOUNDINGS OF THE “SUSQUEHANNA”

^ the Islands of Oceania with a vast elearic network—an
immense enterprise worthy of American genius.

It was to the corvette Susquehanna that the first operations
of sounding had been entrusted. During the night from the
iith to the i2th of December she was exactly in north lat.

27 7 and 41® 37' long., west from the Washington

meridian.

The moon, then in her last quarter, b^an to show herself
above the horizon.

After Captain Blomsbeiry^s departure. Lieutenant Brons-
field and a few officers were together on the poop. As the
moon appeared their thoughts turned towards that orb
which the eyes of a whole hemisphere were then contem¬
plating. The best marine glasses could not have discovered
the projectile wandering round the moon, and yet they were
all pointed at the shining disc which millions of eyes were
looking at in the same moment.

“They started ten days ago,” then said Lieutenant
Bronsfield. “What can have become of them?”

“They have arrived, sir,” exclaimed a young midship¬
man, “and they are doing what all travellers do in a new
country, they are looking about them.”

“I am certain of it as you say so, my young friend,”
answered Lieutenant Bronsfield, smiling.

Still,” said another officer, “their arrival cannot be
doubted. The projectile must have reached the moon at the
moment she was full, at midnight on the 5th. We are now
at the nth of December; that makes six days. Now in six
times twenty-four hours, with no darkness, they have had
time to get comfortably settled. It seems to me that I see
our brave countrymen encamped at the bottom of a valley,

of a Selenite stream, near the projectile,
amidst volcanic remains. Captain
NichoU beginning his levelling operations. President Barbi-
caiw putting his travelling notes in order, Michel Ardan

pei^ming the lunar solitudes with his Londr^ cigar_”

Oh, it must be so; it is so!” exclaimed the young

167

A

ROUND THE MOON

midshipman, enthusiastic at the ideal description of his
superior.

“I should like to believe it,’* answered Lieutenant
Bronsfield, who was seldom carried away. “Unfortunately
direct news from the lunar world will always be wanting.”

“Excuse me, sir,” said the midshipman, “but cannot
President Barbicane write?”

A roar of laughter greeted this answer.

“Not letters,” answered the young man quickly. “The
post office has nothing to do with that.”

“Perhaps you mean the tel^raph office?” said one of the
officers ironically.

“Nor that either,” answered the midshipman, who would
not give in. “But it is very easy to establish graphic com¬
munication with the earth.”

“And how, pray?”

“By means of the telescope on Long’s Peak. You know
that it brings the moon to within two leagues only of the
Rocky Mountains, and that it allows them to see objects
having nine feet of diameter on her surface. Well, our
industrious friends will construct a gigantic alphabet!
Tliey will write words 600 feet long, and sentences a league
long, and then they can send us news!”

The young midshipman, who certainly had some
imagination, was loudly applauded. Lieutenant Bronsfield
himself was convinced that the idea could have been carried
out. He added that by sending luminous rays, grouped by
means of parabolical mirrors, direct communications could
also be established—in fact, these rays would be as visible
on the surface of Venus or Mars as the planet Neptune is
from the eiirth. He ended by saying that the brilliant points
already observed on the nearest planets might be signals
made to the earth. But he said, that though by thc*se means
they could have news from the lunar world, they could not
send any from the terrestrial world unless the Selenites have
at their disposition instruments with which to make distant
observations.

168

THE SOUNDINGS OF THE “SUSQUEHANNA”

“That is evident,” answered one of the officers, “but what
has become of the travellers? What have they done? What
have they seen? That is what interests us. Besides, if the
experiment has succeeded, which I do not doubt, it will be
done again. The Columbiad is still walled up in the soil of
Florida. It is, therefore, now only a question of powder and
^ot, and every time the moon passes the zenith we can send
it a cargo of visitors.”

“It is evident,” answered Lieutenant Bronsfield, “that
J. T. Alaston will go and join his friends one of these days.”

“If he will have me,” exclaimed the midshipman, “I am
ready to go with him.”

“Oh, there will be plenty of amateurs, and if they are
allowed to go, half the inhabitants of the earth will soon have
emigrated to the moon!”

This conversation between the officers of the Susquehanna
was kept up till about i a.m. It would be impossible to
d^cribe the many and audacious theories put forward.
Since Barbicane’s anempt it seemed that nothing was
impossible to Americans. They had already formed the
project of sending, not another commission of experts, but
a whole colony, and a whole army of infantry, artillery, and
cavalry to conquer the lunar world.

At I a.m. the sounding-line was not all hauled in. Ten
thousand feet remained out, which would take several more
hours to bring in. According to the commander’s orders the
n^ had been lighted, and the pressure was going up already.
The Susquehanna might have staned at once.

moment—it was 1.17 a.m.—Lieutenant

Bronsfield was about to leave his watch to turn in when his

auention was attracted by a distant and quite unexpected
hissing sound.

His comrades and he at first thought that the hissing
^e from an escape of steam, but upon lifting up his

that it was high up in the air.

T^ey had not time to question each other before the
hissmg became of frightful intensity, and suddenly to their

169

ROUND THE MOON

dazzled eyes appeared an enormous body, glowing by its
friction against the atmosphere.

This ignited mass grew huger as it came nearer, and fell
with the noise of thunder upon the bowsprit of the corvette,
which it smashed off close to the stem, and vanished in the
waves.

A few feet nearer and the Susquehanna would have gone
down with all on board.

At that moment Captain Blomsberry appeared half-
clothed, and rushing in the forecastle, where his officers had
preceded him—

“With your permission, gentlemen, what has happened?”
he asked.

And the midshipman, making himself the mouthpiece of
them all, cried out—

“Commander, it is ‘they’ come back again.”

170

CHAPTER XXI

J. T. MASTON CALLED IN

Emotion was great on board the Susquehanna. Officers and
saUors forgot the terrible danger they had just been in—the
danger of being crushed and sunk. They only thought of the
catastrophe which terminated the journey. Thus, therefore,
the most audacious enterprise of ancient and modern times
lost the life of the bold adventurers who had anempted it.

It is they come back,’* the young midshipman had
said, and they had all understood. No one doubted that the
glowing body was the projectile of the Gun Qub. Opinions
were divided about the fate of the travellers.

“They are dead!” said one.

“They are alive,” answered the other. “The water is deep
here, and the shock has been deadened.”

“But they will have no air, and will be suffocated!”
“Burnt!” answered the other. “Their projectUe was only
an mcandescent mass as it crossed the atmosphere.”

.<!• matter?” was answered unanimously,

hvmg or dead they must be brought up from there.”

M^while Captain Blomsberry had called his officers

together, and with their permission he held a council.

bomethmg must be done immediately. The most immediate

was to haul up the projectile—a difficult operation, but not

n impossible one. But the corvette wanted the necessary

engin^, which would have to be powerful and precise. It

was, therefore, resolved to put into the nearest port, and to
send word to the Gun Club.

This determimtion was taken unanimously. The choice

harbmll-'I neighbouring coast had no

nf of latitude. Higher up, above the

peninsula of Monterey, was the important town which has

171

ROUND THE MOON

given its name to it. But, seated on the edge of a veritabfe
desert, it had no telegraphic communication with the
interior, and electricity alone could spread the important
news quickly enough.

Some degrees above lay the bay of San Francisco. Through
the capital of the Gold Country communication with the
centre of the Union would be easy. By putting all steam on,
the Susquehanna^ in less than two days, could reach the port
of San Francisco. She must, therefore, start at once.

Tlie fires were heaped up, and they could set sail im¬
mediately. Two thousand fathoms of sounding still re¬
mained in the water. Captain Blomsberrv’ would not lose
precious time in hauling it in, and resolved to cut the line.

“We will fix the end to a buoy,” said he, “and the buoy
will indicate the exact point where the projectile fell.”

“Besides,” answered Lieutenant Bronsfield. “we have
tnir exact bearings: north lat. 27® 7', and west long. 41® 37'.”

“Ver\' well, Mr. Bronsfield,” answered the captain; “with
your permission, have the line cut.”

A strong buoy, reinforced by a couple of spars, was
thrown out on to the surface of the ocean. The end of the
line was solidly struck beneath, and only submitted to the
ebb and fiow of the surges, so that it would not drift much.

At that moment the engineer came to warn the captain
that he had put the pressure on, and they could start. T^e
captain thanked him for his excellent communication. Then
he gave N.N.E. as the route. The corvette was put about
and made for the bay of San Francisco with all steam on.
It was then 3 a.m.

Two hundred leagues to get over was not much for a fast
\essel like the Susquehanna. It got over that distance in
thirty-six hours, and on the 14th of December, at 1.27 p.m.,
she would enter the bay of San Francisco.

At the sight of this vessel of the national nav\’ arriving
H ith all speed on, her bowsprit gone, and her mainmast
propped up, public curiosity was very excited. A compact

crowd was soon assembled on the quays awaiting the landing

172

J. T. MASTON CALLED IN

After weighing anchor Captain Blomsberry and Lieu¬
tenant Bronsfield got down into an eight-oared boat which
carried them rapidly to the land.

They jumped out on the quay.

‘TTie telegraph office?” they asked, without answering
one of the thousand questions that were showered upon
them.

The port inspector guided them himself to the telegraph
office, amidst an immense crowd of curious people.

Blomsberry and Bronsfield went into the office whilst the
crowd crushed against the door.

A few minutes later one message was sent in four different
directions:—1st, to the Secretary of the Navy, Washington;
2nd, to the Vice-President of the Gun Qub, Baltimore;
3rd, to the Honourable J. T. Maston, Long’s Peak, Rocky
M^ntains; 4th to the Sub-Director of the Cambridge
Observatory, Massachusetts.

It ran as follows:—

“In noi^ lat. 20*^ 7', and west long. 41® 37', the projectile

of the Columbiad fell into the Pacific, on December I2ih,

at 1.17 a.m. Send instruaions.— Blomsberry, Commander
Susquehanna**

Five mmutes afterwards the whole town of San Francisco
^ew the news. Before 6 p.m. the different States of the
Umon had reports of the great catastrophe. After midnight,
through the cable, the whole of Europe knew the result of
tne great American enterprise.

It would ^ impossible to describe the effect produced
th^ghout the world by the unexpected news.

telegram the Secretary of the Navy

m *e bay of San Frandsco. She was to be ready to set sail
oay Of night.

5 Cambridge had an extraordinaty
eeting, and, with the serenity which distinguishes scien-

173

ROUND THE MOON

tific bodies, it calmly discussed the scientific part of the
question.

At the Gun Club there was an explosion. All the artillery¬
men were assembled. The Vice-President, the Honourable
Wilcome, was just reading the premature telegram by which
Messrs. Maston and Belfast announced that the projectile
had just been perceived in the gigantic reflector of Long’s
Peak. This communication informed them also that the
projectile, retained by the attraction of the moon, was
playing the part of sub-satellite in the solar world.

The truth on this subject is now known.

However, upon the arrival of Blomsberry’s message,
which so formally contradicted J. T. Maston’s telegram,
two parties were formed in the bosom of the Gun Club.
On the one side were members who admitted the fall of the
projectile, and consequently the return of the travellers.
On the other were those who, holding by the observations
at Long’s Peak, concluded that the Commander of the
Susquehanna was mistaken. According to the latter, the
pretended projectile was only a shooting star, which in its
fall had damaged the corvette. Their argument could not
very well be answered, because the velocity with which it
was endowed had made its observation very difficult. The
commander of the Susquehanna and his officers might
certainly have been mistaken in good faith. One argument
certainly was in their favour: if the projectile had fallen
on the earth it must have touched the terrestrial spheroid
upon the 27th degree of north latitude, and, taking into
account the time that had elapsed, and the earth’s movement
of rotation, between the 41st and 42nd d^ree of west
longitude.

However that might be, it was unanimously decided in
the Gun Club that Blomsberry’s brother Bilsby and Major
Elphinstone should start at once for San Francisco and give
their advice about the means of dragging up the projectile
from the depths of the ocean.

These men started without losing an instant, and the

174

J. T. MASTON CALLED IN

^way which was soon to cross the whole of Central

Ammca took them to St. Louis, where rapid mail-coaches
awaited them.

Almost at the same moment that the Secretary of the

Navy, the Vice-President of the Gun Club, and the Sub-

Dire^or of the Observatory received the tel^ram from

San Francisco, the Honourable J. T. Maston felt the most

violent emotion of his whole existence—an emotion not

even equalled by that he had experienced when his

celebrated caMon was blown up, and which, like it, nearly
cost him his life. ^

It wUl be remembered that the Secretary of the Gun Club
had started some minutes after the projectile—and almost
^ quicUy—for the station of Long’s Peak in the Rocky
Mountain. The learned J. Belfast, Director of the Cam-

^ U»“°'"panied him. Arrived at the station

the two fnends had si^marily installed themselves, and no
longer left the summit of their enormous telescope.

gigantic instrument had been set up
^the reflectmg system, caUed “front view” by the English
This arrangement only gave one reflection of objects^ and
co^equently made the view much clearer. The resuU was

^tioLn^n observing, were

“ '’y ^ «^case, a rna^te“

f ^ g^itness, and below them lay the metal well
tei^mated by the metallic mirror, aSo feet deep ’

tewll' 'T platform placed round the

elescope that the two scientists passed their existenre

deUghr ^cc^Jld fnends through space ? To

rid the erroneous information that the

175

ROUND THE MOON

proiectile had become a satellite of the moon gravitating in
an endless orbit.

After that instant the projectile disappeared behind the
invisible disc of the moon. But when it ought to have re¬
appeared on the invisible disc the impatience of J.T. iMaston
and his no less impatient companion may be imagined.
At every minute of the night they thought they should see
the projectile again, and they did not see it. Hence between
them arose endless discussions and violent disputes, Belfast
affirming that the projectile was not visible, J. T. Maston
affirming that anyone but a blind man could see it.

“It is the projectile!’* repeated J. T. Maston.

“No!” answered Belfast, “it is an avalanche falling from
a lunar mountain!”

“Well, then, we shall see it to-morrow.”

“No, it will be seen no more. It is carried awav into space.”

“Wc shall see it. I tell you.”

“No. we shall not.”

And while these interjections were being showered like
hail, tlie well-known irritability of the Secretary of the Gun
Club constituted a permanent danger to the director,
Belfast.

Their existence together would soon have become im¬
possible, but an unexpected event cut short these eternal
discussions.

During the night between the i2th and 13th of December
the two irreconcilable friends were occupied in observ'ing
the lunar disc. J. T. .Maston was, as usual, saying strong
things to the learned Belfast, who was getting angry* too. The
Secretary of the Gun Club declared for the thousandth time
that he had just perceived the projectile, adding even that
Michel Ardan's face had appeared at one of the pon-lights.
He was emphasizing his arguments by a series of gestures
which his redoubtable hook rendered dangerous.

At that moment Belfast’s ser\’ant appeared upon the
platform—it was 10 p.m.—and gave him a telegram. It was
the message from the Commander of the Susquehanna.

J. T. MASTON CALLED IN

Belfast tore the envelope, read the enclosure, and uttered
a cry.

“What is it?** said J. T. Maston.

“It*s the projectile!**

“What of that?**

“It has fallen upon the earth !**

Another cry; this time a howl answered him.

He turned towards J. T. Maston. Xhe unfortunate fellow
leaning imprudently over the metal tube, had disappeared
down the immense telescope—a fall of 280 feet! Belfast
distracted, rushed towards the orifice of the reflector.

He breathed again. J. T. Maston’s steel hook had caught
in one of the props which maintained the platform of the
telescope. He was uttering formidable cries.

Belf^t called. Help came, and the imprudent secretary
was hoisted up, not without trouble.

He reappeared unhurt at the upper orifice.

“Suppose I had broken the mirror?*’ said he.

“**’ answered Belfast severely.

And where has the infernal craft fallen?’* asked T T
Maston.

“Into the Pacific.”

“Let us start at once.”

A quaner of an hour afterwards the two learned friends

slope of the Rocky Mountains, and

Francisco at the same

r"

“mat is to be done?” they exclaimed.

ITie projectile must be fished up,” answered T T
Maston. “and flc 00 aii:»wcrea j. 1.

R M.—

177

CH.\PTER XXII

PICKED UP

'Fhe very spot where the projectile had disappeared under
tl'.e waves was exactly known. TTie instruments for seizing it
md bringing it to the surface of the ocean were still wanting.
'I hey had to be invented and then manufactured. American
engineers could not be embarrassed by such a trifle. The
grappling-irons once established and steam helping, they
w ere assured of raising the projectile, notwithstanding its
V. eight.

But it was not enough to fish up the projectile. It was
necessary to act promptly in the interest of the travellers.
No one doubted that they were still living.

“Yes,” rcpciiied J. T. Maston incessantly, whose con¬
fidence inspired everybody, “our friends are clever fellows,
and they cannot have fallen like imbeciles. They are alive,
alive and well, but we must make haste in order to find them
so. He had no anxiety about provisions and water. They had
enough for a long time! But air!—air would soon fail them.
Then they must make haste!”

And they did make haste. They prepared the Susquehanna
for her destination. Her powerful engines were arranged to
be used for the hauling machines. The aluminium projectile
only weighed 19,250 lbs., a much less weight than that of
the transatlantic cable, which was picked up under similar
circumstances. Tlie only difliculty lay in the smooth sides
of the cylindro-conical body, which made it difficult to
grapple.

\X'ith that end in view the engineer Alurchison, summoned
to San Francisco, caused enormous grappling-irons to be
fitted upon an automatic system which would not let the
projectile go again if they succeeded in seizing it with their

178

PICKED LP

powerful pincers. He also had some diving-dresses prepared,
which, by their impermeable and resisting texture, allowed
divers to stirvey the bottom of the sea. He likewise embarked
on board the Susquehanna apparatus for compressed air,
very ingeniously contrived. They were veritable rooms, with
port-lights in them, and which by introducing the water into
certain compartments, could be sunk to great depths. The
apparatus was already at San Francisco, where it had been
used in the construction of a submarine dyke. This was
fominate, for there would not have been time to make one.

Yet notwithstanding the perfection of the apparatus,
notwithstanding the ingenuity of the experts who were to
use them, the success of the operation was anything but
assured. Fishing up a large body from 20,000 feet under
water must be an uncertain operation. And even if it were
brought to the surface, how had the travellers borne the
terrible shock that even 20,000 feet of water would not
sufficiently deaden?

In short, everything must be done quickly. J. T. Maston
hurried on his workmen day and night. He was ready either
to buckle on the diver’s dress or try the air-apparatus in
order to find his courageous friends.

Still, notwithstanding the diligence with which the
different machines were got ready, notwithstanding the
considerable sums which were placed at the disposition of
the Gun Qub by the Government of the Union, five long
days (five centuries) went by before the preparations were
completed. During that time public opinion was excited
to the highest point. Telegrams were incessantly exchanged
all over the world through the electric wires and cables.
The saving of Barbicane, NichoU, and Michel Ardan became
an international business. All the nations that had subscribed
to the enterprise of the Gun Club were equally interested in
the safety of the travellers.

At last the grappling-chains, air-chambers, and automatic
grappling-irons were embarked on board the Susquehanna.

J. T. Maston, the engineer Murchison, and the Gun Club

179

ROUND THE MOON

delegates already occupied their cabins. There was nothing
to do but to start.

On the 21 St of December, at 8 p.m., the corvene set sail
on a calm sea with a rather cold north-east wind blowing.
All the population of San Francisco crowded on to the
quays, mute and anxious, reserving its hurrahs for the
return.

The steam was put on to its maximum of pressure, and
the screw of the Susquehanna carried it rapidly out of
the bay.

It would be useless to relate the conversations on board
amongst the officers, sailors, and passengers. All these men
had but one thought. Their hearts all beat with the same
emotion. ^Tiat were Barbicane and his companions doing
whilst they were hastening to their rescue? WTiat had
become of them? Had they been able to attempt some
audacious manceuvre to recover their liberty? No one could
say. TTie truth is that any attempt would have failed. Sunk
to nearly tw'o leagues under the ocean, their metal prison
would defy any effort of its prisoners.

On the 23rd of December, at 8 a.m., after a rapid passage,
the Susquehanna ought to be on the scene of the diasaster.
They were obliged to w"ait till twelve o’clock to take their
exact bearings. Tlie buoy fastened on to the sounding-line
had not yet been seen.

At noon Captain Blomsberry, helped by his officers, who
c<''ntrolled the observation, made his point in the presence of
the delegates of the Gun Club. That was an anxious moment.
'Hie Susquehanna was found to be at some minutes w’est of
the very spot where the projectile had disappeared under the
waves.

The direction of the corvette was, therefore, given in view
of reaching the precise spot.

At 12.47p.m.thebuoy was sighted. It was in perfect order,
and did not seem to have drifted far.

“At last!” exclaimed J. T. Maston.

“Shall we begin?” asked Captain Blomsberry.

180

PICKED UP

“Without losing a second,” answered J. T. Maston.

Every precaution was taken to keep the corvene perfectly
motionless.

Before trying to grapple the projectile, the engineer,
Murchison, wished to find out its exact position on the sea-
bottom, The submarine apparatus for this search received
their provision of air. The handling of these engines is not
without danger, for at 20,000 feet below the surface of the
water and under such great pressure they are exposed to
ruptures the consequences of which could be terrible.

J. T. Maston, the commander’s brother, and the engineer
Murchison, without a thought of these dangers, took their
places in the air-chambers. The Commander, on his foot¬
bridge, presided over the operation, ready to stop or haul in
his chains at the least signal. The screw had been taken off,
and all the force of the machines upon the windlass would
soon have brought up the apparatus on board.

The descent began at 1.25 p.m., and the chamber,
dragged down by its reservoirs filled with water, disappeared
under the surface of the ocean.

The emotion of the ofiicers and sailors on board was now
divided between the prisoners in the projectile and the
prisoners of the submarine apparatus. These laner forgot
themselves, and, glued to the panes of the port-lights, they
attentively observed the liquid masses they were passing
through.

The descent was rapid. At 2.17 p.m. J. T. Maston and his
companions had reached the bottom of the Pacific; but
they saw nothing except the lifeless sea-bed. By the light of
their lamps, furnished with powerful reflectors, they could
observe the dark layers of water in a rather large radius, but
the projectile remained invisible in their eyes.

The impatience of these bold divers could hardly be
described. Their apparatus being in electric communication
with the corvette, they made a signal agreed upon, and the
Susquehanna carried their chamber over a mile of space at
one yard from the soil.

181

ROUND IHE MOON

They thus explored all the submarine plain, deceived at
every instant by optical delusions which cut them to the
heart. Here a rock, there a swelling of the ground, looked to
them like the much-sought-for projectile; then they would
soon find out their error and despair again.

“Where are they? Where can they be?” cried J. T.
Masion.

And the poor man called aloud to Nicholl, Barbicane,
and Michel Ardan, as if his unfortunate friends could have
heard him through that impenetrable medium!

The search went on under those conditions until the
state of the air in the apparatus forced the divers to go
up again.

The hauling in was begun at 6 p.m., and was not termin¬
ated before midnight.

“W'e will try' again to-morrow,” said J. T. Maston as he
stepped on to the deck of the corvette.

“Yes,” answered Captain Blomsberry.

“And in another place.”

“Yes.”

J. T. Maston did not yet doubt his ultimate success, but
his companions, who were no longer intoxicated with the
animation of the first few hours, already took in all the
difficulties of the enterprise. What seemed easy at San
Francisco in open ocean appeared almost impossible. The
chances of success diminished in a large proportion, and it
was to chance alone that the finding of the projectile had to
be left.

Tlie next day, the 24th of December, notwithstanding the
fatigues of the preceding day, operations were resumed. The
corvette moved some minutes farther west, and the appara¬
tus, provisioned with air again, took the same explorers to the
depths of the ocean.

All that day w'as passed in a fruitless search. The bed of
the sea was a desert. The day of the 25th brought no result,
neither did that of the 26th.

It was disheanening. They thought of the unfortunate

182

PICKED UP

men shut up for twenty-six days in the projectile. Perhaps
they were all feeling the first symptoms of suffocation, even
if they had escaped the dangers of their fall. The air was
getting exhausted, and doubtless with the air their courage
and spirits.

On the 28th, after two days’ search, all hope was lost.
This body was an atom in the immensity of the sea! They
must give up the hope of finding it.

Still J. T. Maston would not hear about leaving. He
would not abandon the place without having at least found
the tomb of his friends. But Captain Blomsberry could not
stay on indefinitely, and notwithstanding the opposition of
the worthy secretary, he was obliged to give orders to set
sail.

On the 29th of December, at 9 a.m., the Sasqueharma,
heading north-east, began to return to the bay of San
Francisco.

It was 10 a.m. The corvette was leaving slowly and as if
with regret the scene of the catastrophe, when the sailor at
the mast-head, who was on the look-out, called out all at
once—

“A buoy on the lee bowl”

The officers looked in the direction indicated. They
saw through their telescopes the object signalled, which
did look like one of those buoys used for marking the
openings of bays or rivers; but, unlike them, a flag floating
in the wind surmounted a cone which emerged five or six
feet. This buoy shone in the sunshine as if made of plates
of silver.

The Commander, Blomsberry, J. T. Maston, and the
delegates of the Gun Club ascended the foot-bridge and
examined the object thus drifting on the waves.

All looked with feverish anxiety, but in silence. None of
them dared utter the thought that came into all their
minds.

The corvette approached to within two cables* length of
the object.

183

ROUND THE MOON

A shudder ran through the whole crew.

The flag was an American one!

At that moment a veritable roar was heard. It was the
worthy J. T, Aiaston, who had fallen in a heap; forgetting
on the one hand that he had only an iron hook for one arm,
and on the other that a simple guttapercha cap covered his
head, he had given himself a formidable blow.

They rushed towards him and picked him up. They
recalled him to life. And what were his first words?

“Ah! triple brutes! quadruple idiots! quintuple boobies
that we are!**

“What is the matter?** everyone round him exclaimed.

“Speak, can*t you?’*

“It is, imbeciles,’* shouted the terrible secretary, “it is
that the projectile only weighs 19,250 lbs!”

“WeU?”

“And it displaces 28 tons, or 56,000 lbs., consequently ir
floats!^'

Ah! how that worthy man did underline the verb “to
float!” And it was the truth! All, yes! all these experts had
forgotten this fundamental law, that in consequence of its
specific lightness the projectile, after having been dragged
by its fall to the greatest depths of the ocean, had naturally
returned to the surface; and now it was floating tranquilly
whichever way the wind cared to carry it.

The boats had been lowered. J. T. Aiaston and his friends
rushed into them. Tlie excitement was at its highest point.
All hearts palpitated whilst the boats rowed towards the
projectile. WTiat did it contain—the living or the dead? The
living. Yes! unless death had struck down Barbicane and
his companions since they had hoisted the flag!

Profound silence reigned in the boats. All hearts stopped
beating. Eyes no longer performed their office. One of the
port-lights of the projectile was opened. Some pieces of
glass remaining in the frame proved that it had been
broken. This port-light was situated actually five feet above
water.

184

185

ROUND THE MOON

A boat drew alongside—that of J. T. Maston. He rushed
to the broken window.

At that moment the joyful and clear voice of Michel
Ardan was heard exclaiming in the accents of viaory—
“Double blank, Barbicane, double blank!**

Barbicane, Michel Ardan, and NichoU were playing at
dominoes.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE END

It will be remembered that immense interest accompanied
the thiGG travellers upon their departure. If the beginning of
their enterprise had caused such excitement in the old and
new world, what enthusiasm must welcome their return!
Would not the millions of spectators who had invaded the
Floridian peninsula rush to meet the sublime adventurers?
Would those legions of foreigners from all points of the
globe, now in America, leave the Union without seeing
Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan once more? No, and
the ardent passion of the public would worthily respond to
the grandeur of the enterprise. Human beings who had
left the terrestrial spheroid, who had returned after their
strange journey into celestial space, could not fail to be
received like the prophet Elijah when he returned to the
earth. To see them first, to hear them afterwards, was the
general desire.

This desire was to be very promptly realized by almost
all the inhabitants of the Union.

Barbicane, Michel Ardan, Nicholl, and the del^ates of
the Gun Club returned without delay to Baltimore, and
were there received with indescribable enthusiasm. The
president’s travelling notes were ready to be given up for
publicity. The New York Herald bought this manuscript at
a price which is not yet known but which must have been
enormous. In fact, during the publication of the Journey to
the Moon they printed 5,000,000 copies of that newspaper.
Three days after the travellers’ return to the earth the least
details of their expedition were known. The only thing
remaining to be done was to see the heroes of this super¬
human enterprise.

187

ROUND THE MOON

The adventure of Barbicane and his friends around the
moon had allowed them to control the different theories
about the terrestrial satellite. These great people had
observed it, and under quite peculiar circximsiances. It was
now known which systems were to be rejected, which
admined, upon the formation of this orb, its origin, and its
inhabitability. Its past, present, and future had given up their
secrets. >XTiat could be objected to conscientious observa¬
tions made at less than forty miles from that curious
mountain of Tycho, the strangest mountain system of lunar
orography? What answers could be made to those who had
looked into the dark depths of the amphitheatre of Pluto?
Who could contradict these audacious men whom the
hazards of their enterprise had carried over the invisible
disc of the moon, which no human eye had ever seen
before? It was now their prerogative to impose the limits of
lunar science which had built up the lunar world like Cuvier
did the skeleton of a fossil, and to say, “Tlie moon was this,
a world inhabitable and inhabited before the earth! ITie
moon is this, a world now uninhabitable and uninhabited!”

In order to welcome the return of the most illustrious of
its members and his two companions, the Gun Club thought
of giving them a banquet; but a banquet worthy of them,
worthy of the American people, and under such circum¬
stances that all the inhabitants of the Union could take a
direct part in it.

All the termini of the railroads in the State were joined
together by movable rails. Then, in all the stations hung
with the same flags, decorated with the same ornaments,
were spread tables uniformly dressed. At a certain time,
severely calculated upon electric clocks which beat the
seconds at the same instant, the inhabitants were invited to
take their places at the same banquet.

During four days, from the 5th to the 9th of January', the
trains were suspended like they are on Sundays upon the
railways of the Union, and all the lines w'ere free.

One locomotive alone, a very fast engine, dragging a state

188

THE END

saloon, had the right of circulating, during these four days,
upon the railways of the United States.

This locomotive, conducted by a stoker and a mechanic,
carried, by a great favour, the Honourable J. T. Maston,
Secretary of the Gun Club.

The saloon was reserved for President Barbicane, Captain
Nicholl and Michel Ardan.

The train left the station of Baltimore amidst the hurrahs
and all the admiring interjections of the American language.
It went at the speed of eighty leagues an hour. But what was
that speed compared to the one with which the three heroes
had left the Columbiad?

Thus they went from one town to another, finding the
population in crowds upon their passage saluting them with
the same acclamations, and showering upon them the same
‘‘bravoes.’* They thus travelled over the east of the Union
through Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Ver¬
mont, Maine, and New Brunswick; north and west through
New York, Ohio, Michigan, and Wisconsin; south through
Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and Louisiana; south¬
east through Alabama and Florida, Georgia, and the
Carolinas; they visited the centre through Tennessee,
Kentucky, Virginia, and Indiana; then after the station of
Washington they re-entered Baltimore, and during four
days they could imagine that the United States of America,
seated at one immense banquet, saluted them simul¬
taneously with the same hurrahs.

This apotheosis was worthy of these heroes, whom fable
would have placed in the ranks of demi-gods.

And now would this anempt, without precedent in the
annals of travels, have any practical result? Would direct
communication ever be established with the moon? Would
a service of navigation ever be founded across space for the
solar world? Will people ever go from planet to planet, from
Jupiter to Mercury, and later on from one star to another,
from the Polar star to Sirius, would a method of locomotion
allow of visiting the suns which swarm in the firmament?

189

ROUND THE MOON

No ansuer can be given to these questions, but knowing
the audacious ingenuity of the Anglo-Saxon race, no one
will be astonished that the Americans tried to turn President
Barbicane’s experiment to account.

Thus some time after the return of the travellers the
public received with marked favour the advertisement of a
Joint-Stock Company (Limited), with a capital of a
hundred million dollars, divided into a hundred thousand
shares of a thousand dollars each,under thenameofNaribno/
Company for Inierstellar Communication —President, Barbi-
cane; Vice-President, Captain NichoU; Secretary J. T.
Maston; Director, Michel Ardan.

THE END

^ 4

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I

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p*

THE

ROYAL SERIES

1 A CHRISTMAS CAROL Charles Dickens

2 STORIES FROM THE BIBLE

Old and New Testaments Retold by Blanche Winder

3 ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MERRY MEN

E. Charles Vivian

4 The YOUNG FUR-TRADERS R. M. BaUantyne

5 FAVOURITE FAIRY TALES

6 KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS

Blanche Winder

7 LITTLE WOMEN Louisa M. AJcott

8 ALICE IN WONDERLAND Lewis Carroll

9 BLACK BEAUTY Anna Sewell

10 WHAT KATY DID Susan Coolidge

11 TREASURE ISLAND Robert Louis Stevenson

12 THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS Lewis Carroll

13 UNCLE TOM’S CABIN Mrs. H. B. Stowe

14 GOOD WIVES Louisa M. Alcott

15 ANDERSEN’S FAIRY TALES

16 The ARABIAN NIGHTS

17 WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL Susan Coolidge

18 TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE C. and M. Lamb

19 WHAT KATY DID NEXT Susan Coolidge

20 LITTLE MEN Louisa M. Alcott

21 AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS Jules Verne

22 JO’S BOYS Louisa M. Alcott

23 GRIMM’S FAIRY TALES

24 ROUND THE MOON Jules Verne

WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

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